


if i fall for you (will you catch me?)

by cosmogony



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, College Student Kenma, Fallen Angels, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, The topic of mental health is referenced frequently, angel kuroo, magical metaphors for anxiety and depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24582493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogony/pseuds/cosmogony
Summary: Kuroo is the fallen angel with no faith left in humanity. Kenma is the anxiety-ridden college student with no faith left in himself. But when Kuroo is cast out of Heaven and tasked with helping one human, both he and Kenma learn to grow to love things that they never thought were possible.Kuroken fallen angel AU
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 82
Kudos: 256





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Writing something with multiple chapters has always daunted me, but I grew so attached to this idea I couldn't help but write it, and I'm super excited to share it!! 
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta reader [Neens](https://twitter.com/neenswrites) , who is an actual angel who helped make this possible, and also [Tabby](https://twitter.com/fruitytsu) who encouraged me a lot along the way!!

Kuroo Tetsurou was a really crappy angel. 

While yes, he agreed with that sentiment, it didn’t mean he liked hearing it. _Surely_ he wasn’t the worst angel that had ever existed. He was certain there was at least one story in the Bible that proved that. 

But draped across a lounge, hearing it from his best friend, he wasn’t so sure.

“Bro, you seriously suck at your job.” Bokuto’s voice was loud, so loud that Kuroo was sure that even the people in the rooms around them were going to hear them. Not that he really gave a damn what they thought of him. “Like, you suck more than I did when I first started.”

Kuroo’s lips quirked upwards in a smirk as he recalled Bokuto’s first few weeks on the job. He hadn’t worked out the flying thing, and knocked at least six people over. Plus, he’d given one person so much sleep, that they were unable to wake up the next morning, and had to promptly be taken to hospital. Not many angels had found that as funny as Kuroo did, though.

“Bokuto-san is right, Kuroo-san. You should work harder before there are consequences.” Kuroo had forgotten Akaashi was in the room with them. Kuroo raised his head to look over at Akaashi, who had his head buried in paperwork. “We have a chance to do some good, so why not use it?” He mused, pen tapping against the page he was reading.

“Why should I?” Kuroo groaned, running a hand through his mess of untamed dark hair.

Both Bokuto and Akaashi looked up at him, matching expressions of confusion etched onto their faces. 

“Dude, it’s literally your job. An _angel.”_ Bokuto said this like it was the simplest thing in the world. “We help people.”

“What the fuck have people done to deserve any help?” Kuroo sat up so he could face them both, and respond to their confused expressions with his own one of confidence. “Why do we try?” 

“I don’t think we’re supposed to use that kind of language,” Akaashi muttered under his breath.

“Kuroo! Humans are cool! How could you say that?” Bokuto ignored Akaashi’s statement, instead hoisting himself up from his seat and spreading his wings to their full size, stretching out so their tips were brushing the ceiling. “Sometimes they do funny things like fall over! And they fall in love which is always happy to see. Oh! They also make really nice things sometimes. Like art! Or movies!” 

Kuroo’s nose scrunched up. “And for what? They’re also greedy, you know. And they start wars, harm each other, even damn kill each other.” 

Kuroo was certain his distaste of the human race was entirely logical. He hated people back when he was a person himself, and that hadn’t changed in the years and years he’d been an angel. They had never done anything for each other - never done anything for _him_ \- so why should he have to do things for them?

“Don’t you think that means they need more help then, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi’s voice was controlled, steady. It was clearly intended to challenge him, but Kuroo couldn’t bring himself to care for the thought.

He vehemently disagreed, actually.

“Come on, man.” Bokuto walked over to him, placing his hands on Kuroo’s shoulders. “You’ll see it soon, you’ve just gotta start trying, and then you’ll see why it’s worth it. Why ‘Kaashi and I love our jobs so much!”

“I don’t think it will happen.” Kuroo averted his gaze to the floor. He didn’t want to see the way Bokuto’s face fell at Kuroo’s sour attitude. He didn’t want to be _guilted_ into caring. 

Bokuto, however, was not taking this for an answer. He bent down so his face was only a couple of inches from Kuroo’s own, so close that Kuroo really didn’t have anywhere else to look. “Just try, for me?”

“Sorry to interrupt, uh, whatever’s happening here-” a new voice spoke from the doorway, and Kuroo was beyond thankful that it meant he didn’t have to answer Bokuto’s question. “Nekomata wants to speak to Kuroo.” 

_Okay, so maybe he wasn’t so thankful for the intrusion._

Kuroo stood up, pushing Bokuto back to get a proper view of Kai standing in their doorway, While he was leaned casually against the doorframe, wings relaxed, he also had his arms crossed against his chest - a tell-tale sign that something was bothering him. 

“What does the big boss want with me, eh?” Kuroo tilted his head, a faux grin spreading across his face. “Did I win an award for best hair in the Heavens?”

Akaashi shot Kuroo a look of horror, which Kuroo chose to ignore completely. He wasn’t going to be worried about it just yet, so why not bring a little bit of humour to the situation?

“Just come with me,” Kai replied, stepping away from the door in signal for Kuroo to follow. 

Kuroo sighed in an overdramatic fashion. “If I have been summoned, then I shall go. Lead the way, Kai.” Kuroo stepped forward to follow.

“Good luck, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi whispered as Kuroo walked past. 

Kuroo was sure he wouldn’t need it. 

* * *

Kuroo had forgotten how maze-like their head office was. The corridor after corridor of pristine marble floors and spotless white walls, with the occasional floral paintings hung up, had Kuroo’s head spinning. It seemed unnavigable. 

Each turn down another passage that looked identical to the last hundred had Kuroo wondering if Kai even knew where they were going. 

Plus, he hated the silence of their walk.

“So, hah, do you think they’re overdoing it here with the whole ‘white and pure angel aesthetic’?” Kuroo asked with a grin, pointing to the ornate etchings on the ceiling of flowers on vine leaves and feathers that resembled their wings. Based on Kai’s lack of response, he didn’t find it amusing.

Angels were so stuffy sometimes. 

“We’re almost there.” Kai turned yet another corridor, this one with a large, golden door at the end. Kuroo thought it looked ridiculous. As they approached it, Kai turned to look at Kuroo again, his eyes boring into him. “Kuroo… while you’re in there, please try to make a good impression?”

Kuroo only shrugged as he pushed the grand doors open. 

He was greeted by the sight of Nekomata sitting behind a big, glass desk, hands clasped together and an unreadable smile on his face. “Kuroo, please, take a seat.”

Kuroo tentatively took a step forward, slowly sitting down at the chair across from Nekomata’s. “Should I be worried?”

“Probably.”

Oh, that wasn’t good. 

A nervous laugh bubbled out of Kuroo’s throat, and he chose to avert his eyes to the poster of a ‘just hang in there!’ kitten pinned up behind Nekomata’s desk, a stark difference to the rest of the formal setting. 

“Kuroo,” Nekomata started, leaning forward in his seat. “You know why people become angels, correct?”

Kuroo only shrugged, not wanting his words to betray his nerves. _What did that even mean?_

“When someone dies in a situation that wasn’t natural or fair, they get a second chance. A chance to make a difference, and help less fortunate people.” There was something wistful in Nekomata’s gaze that Kuroo couldn’t place. “Like you.”

Kuroo was well aware that he had died in a way that wasn’t ‘natural or fair’, but he knew that it wasn’t what he had been called here to discuss. So instead he merely nodded his head, remnants of a grin still on his face.

“And you should be _using_ this second chance to do some good.” 

_Ah, there it was_. 

Kuroo only widened his grin. He’d been prepared for this sort of conversation for a long time, and he was not about to waste it. “Not to be disrespectful, but why are we supposed to try so hard to help them?”

“It’s our job.” 

Kuroo clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “Why, though?” He snapped, well aware of the fact that he should be calm, but much too fired up to care. He was so _sick_ of this ‘it’s our job’ bullshit that he wanted to scream it into Nekomata’s face.

_Everyone’s face._

“Pardon?” Nekomata was still the face of calm composure, not even flinching at Kuroo’s outburst. 

“What are we helping them for? Do you not see the death and destruction they cause? The amount of suffering they cause each other?” One of Kuroo’s hands slammed onto the table, causing a loud bang that made him flinch.

Nekomata, on the other hand, did not seem at all fazed by Kuroo’s outburst, instead just sighing and regarding Kuroo with a questioning look. “Have you never seen their auras? They’re capable of good. You know it, deep down.”

Sure, he’d seen their auras. Seen the way that overly aggressive people’s were dark red, and angry looking. Seen how greedy people were tainted with a horrendous shade of green. But never had he seen one that was fully pure, so why would he want to believe that they were capable of good? Plus, he wasn’t one to lie. “I disagree.”

“Then we’ll just find a solution, hm? And since you haven’t been filling your quota…” Nekomata trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye that made Kuroo extremely nervous.

_He had forgotten that angels were capitalistic bastards._

Kuroo laughed nervously again. “Ah, you see, about that quota…” He lifted an arm to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had picked up when he had been alive, but still not managed to shake. So maybe he’d been a little behind on the number of good deeds he’d completed, but he thought it was justified. 

“You can fix it, you know,” Nekomata added. “It isn’t too late.” 

Kuroo’s brows creased in concentration, not sure if he should take the bait, but followed through with it anyway. “How?”

The impassive grin on Nekomata’s face grew impossibly wider. “I’m casting you out of the Heavens until you help one human make their life better,” He said with a finality that made Kuroo keenly aware he couldn’t talk his way out of it.

Kuroo felt the urge to remind Nekomata that he _hated_ people, and that whichever sucker he tried to help would probably be better off without him anyway, but he held his tongue.

A scowl, however, still managed to crawl across his face, distorting his features into an expression of distaste. “What’s that even going to achieve?”

“I think you’ll see that helping people is rewarding, it might even inspire you.”

Kuroo could only assume that Nekomata was going delusional in his old age. He’d been doing this job for far too long, it must have finally gotten to his head. If he thought that this was going to ‘inspire him’, then he had a big shock coming.

“So what? I’m just stuck on Earth till I make some bastard happy? Doesn’t sound inspirational to me, but fine.” Because _really,_ he wasn’t in a position to argue. Once a higher-up like Nekomata made a decision like this, it was set in stone.

Nekomata nodded, his eyes still glued to Kuroo’s. “I’m glad we agree. See Kai on your way out, he’ll accustom you to being a fallen angel.”

_Fallen angel._

The words didn’t sit well with Kuroo. Something about them rattled him to his very core, and left a sour taste in his mouth. While this process was far more civil than Kuroo had anticipated making someone a fallen angel would be, but at the same time he was more than aware that he had been left completely choiceless in the matter. 

It seemed as though his choice was to help someone, or stay down on Earth. 

Kuroo shrugged as he stood, giving Nekomata a quick bow before exiting through the golden doors, and took a step to find out what this future would hold. 

* * *

“You’ll be okay.”

“I fuckin’ know. It’s not like I’m nervous.” Kuroo regarded Kai as they made their way through yet another maze of white corridors. There were fewer people down this end of the facility, a fact that Kuroo was begging his brain not to notice. 

Kai sighed, ruffling his wings in irritation. “It’s okay to be nervous.” 

“I literally just told you that I wasn’t nervous.” Kuroo was well aware that he was lying to himself, because _anyone in their right mind would be nervous right now._ He’d very rarely heard of an angel being welcomed back after being cast out, and he was in tune with a lot of the gossip that happened in their sector. There were way too many unknown variables, mostly the fact that Kuroo sure didn’t think he was capable of actually helping someone improve their life.

For all he knew, he was going to be stuck down there forever. 

But he wasn’t about to let Kai know he was nervous. What was he going to do about it? Give him some half-assed pep talk and then go and flaunt how he’d helped him out? Kuroo would pass on that.

“Nekomata instructed me to give you some things to help you out down there.”

“I’m not a damn charity case, I’ll be fine,” Kuroo retorted, rolling his eyes. He certainly didn’t need anyone’s help. He’d be just fine.

“Okay, so you have to find a human who looks like they need a little TLC, and then just fix them up,” Kai began, seemingly ignoring Kuroo’s comments. 

Kuroo waved his hands in the air. “Hello? I said I don’t need the crash course.”

“I suggest you read their aura first, find someone who won’t be too much of a challenge. You’ll still have that power.”

Now that Kai said that, Kuroo was making it his new goal to find the most messed up person he could, regardless of what he’d thought before, and turn them into a poster child of positivity. Because if Kuroo loved anything, it was doing things out of spite. 

Kai stopped walking towards the end of the corridor, opening a door that Kuroo hadn’t even known existed and stepping inside, beckoning Kuroo to follow. As he entered, he saw the room was completely empty, no other doors besides the one they had just come through, and certainly no windows. _Trust angels to come up with dramatic shit like this._ “You’ll also still have your wings, they’ll just… look a bit different. I suggest you keep them tucked away though, you don’t want to make a scene,” Kai continued, snapping Kuroo from his previous thoughts.

Kuroo was officially sick of Kai babying him through this talk. 

“Okay, okay, weird wings, whatever. Can you just… drop me now?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll do just fine on my own.”

“Nekomata said to hand you these,” Kai added, pushing a paper bag into Kuroo’s hands that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “It has fake I.D. in it, some money, a phone so we can easily contact you, and a key to an apartment that we have for emergencies.”

“Do I look like a damn charity case to you?” Kuroo sneered, attempting to push the bag back towards Kai. “I can do this on my own?”

Kuroo would never understand angels. They’d punish someone, but then try to help them out, no doubt to keep their ‘good name’. He didn’t want a bar of that bullshit. He wasn’t prepared to be pitied by the same people that were the cause of this problem.

But Kai wasn’t taking the bag back, instead taking a step away from Kuroo so he was out of reach. “Why make this harder for yourself? You don’t want to be arrested or something.”

Kuroo bit back his retort about the matter, instead just shoving the bag under his arm and continuing to scowl at Kai. “Is that all, then?”

“One more thing,” Kai said this while smiling sheepishly at Kuroo, causing him to feel incredibly uneasy at the display. Kuroo couldn’t help the crease of his brow as he waited for Kai’s next words. “Nekomata asked me to tell you that you’re a bitch.”

Kuroo’s jaw dropped, because _what the actual fuck?_ Before he had a chance to reply, Kai was leaning over and placing a finger on Kuroo’s forehead, causing his world to fade into black. 

* * *

Kozume Kenma did not want to get out of bed. 

It may have been midday on a Tuesday, but he couldn’t bring himself to finally roll over and begin to prepare for class. Kenma sighed for the nth time that day, eyes still glued to the ceiling of his dorm room. 

If he went to class… he’d have to pass all the people on his dorm’s floor. Plus he’d have to walk across campus, passing hundreds of strangers that he would dislike without a doubt, especially if any of them were part of a club that they’d ask him to join (and he knows they’d dislike him, too.) Finally, he’d arrive at his lecture theatre, and either sit awkwardly alone at the back, causing people to stare at him and no doubtedly make assumptions about him, or have a stranger sit next to him and attempt to make small talk, only to find out that Kenma really wasn’t a worthwhile person, and then quickly grow dislike for him.

He felt his stomach churn with nausea that seemed to rise into his throat. _Shit, was he doing that badly today?_ Kenma was incredibly self-aware to the fact that this reaction was illogical, and his thoughts barely made sense, _and_ that he was being stupid and overreacting, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He tried to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He just had to control his breathing, and then he could get up and go-

No, university was far too much effort. 

“I’ll go tomorrow instead,” he bargained with himself, slowly sitting up and pulling his hair into something that resembled a bun. He would just catch up on assignments today. That wouldn’t aggravate the demons that seemed to be living in his brain too much. Plus, it was a coding assignment. Kenma liked coding; liked knowing that each input had one output, and that it made _sense._ He could control each outcome. 

Coding was predictable and offered certainty. Kenma could only wish that all other facets of life were the same. 

Kenma grabbed his phone from his nightstand. The time read _12:15_ , so he doubted he would have made it to his 12:30 class anyway. Another reason that it was just a good idea to skip. He read through his notifications, the sense of satisfaction after realising his skipping was justified quelled when he noticed every single one of his notifications was just on exam information or group project preparation. 

He felt his chest tighten at the thought of either of those things. Exams… maybe he could scrape by with a pass. He attended enough of his lectures to have a rough idea of what was going on. But the mere thought of group projects made his skin crawl, the anxiety of the thought of interacting with people - and having them depend on him - truly made him want to curl into a ball on his bed and stay there. He shoved his phone back onto the stand haphazardly. 

Kenma simply wasn’t built for university. _He didn’t think he was built for much at all, actually._ He didn’t even bother to push that thought out of his mind. He had become far too accustomed to the voice in his head telling him he just wasn’t enough, it had almost become a friend to him. 

If the fact that the closest thing Kenma had to a friend was his crippling self-doubt wasn’t so depressing, he would have laughed at himself. 

However, while Kenma had decided that he was going to stay in bed today, a pounding at his door seemed to have other plans for him.

He couldn’t imagine who it could be. As he pushed himself out of bed and threw on the first sweater he saw piled onto his desk chair, he couldn’t stop his mind racing with the possibilities (or lack thereof) of who it would be. His parents wouldn’t have travelled across the country with no notice, and Lev at least had the courtesy to text before asking Kenma for assignment help. Unless… the police were coming to arrest him for streaming _The Avengers_? It seemed unlikely, but it was starting to feel like the most probable option. 

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he gripped the metallic door handle of his dorm. 

“Hi, you’re the guy that lives in 3F, right?” A chirpy voice greeted him that Kenma could never recall hearing before. Kenma stopped to take in the stranger’s appearance. A boy with a bright shock of orange hair matched with a splattering of freckles and a blinding smile. Kenma definitely hadn’t seen him in his life. 

Kenma gestured to the ‘3F’ on the door to his dorm, hopefully signalling the answer to the stranger’s question. While he certainly didn’t look like a threat, Kenma couldn’t quell the unease he was feeling. “What do you want?” Kenma asked in a voice that sounded too nervous to convey the ‘unbothered’ facade he was aiming for. 

“My name is Hinata Shouyou! What’s yours?” _Was this person a black hole of energy?_ Every word he said was so upbeat and happy, and everything that Kenma hated in people. (The wicked part of Kenma was willing to admit that this was somewhat of a jealousy thing, but he wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on the thought.)

Kenma hesitated a moment before answering. “Kenma. Just Kenma is fine.” The fact that this stranger - no, _Shouyou -_ still hadn’t said why he was at Kenma’s doorstep was truly putting him on edge. 

Hinata continued to wear a huge grin, completely unwavering. “Well, just Kenma, I live a couple of doors down in 3J, and me and Yamaguchi - do you know Yamaguchi? He lives in 3L. Anyway, we were thinking of having a ‘floor party’ where we all just get to know each other! There’s like 20 or something of us and I thought it’d be cool, so I’ll see you there?” Hinata was a never-ending stream of words. However, with each syllable he uttered, Kenma found himself becoming increasingly uncomfortable, evident in the hunching of his shoulders and the fidgeting of his fingers in the sleeves of his hoodie.

“No.” Kenma didn’t think he was able to formulate any other word. His head was spinning with the thoughts of whatever the hell a _floor party_ was, and how horrible it sounded. The very thought made his chest feel incredibly tight. He curled his hands into fists, his nails leaving dark crescent imprints into his palms. If he focused on his breathing, and the slight stinging in his hands, he hopefully wouldn’t make too much of a fool of himself in front of this person. 

Hinata’s head tilted to the side. “Huh?” He was clearly completely oblivious to Kenma’s internal panic attack. “What do you mean? You don’t know Yamaguchi?”

_Did some people truly not know how to take a fucking hint?_

“I don’t want to go,” Kenma mumbled under his breath, hoping that Hinata heard that and would just _go away._ Because honestly, why would they want anyone like him there anyway?

Kenma was not a party person. He wasn’t the kind of person who people invited to parties. The last one he’d gone to had been during high school, where he’d been guilt-tripped into going by his chemistry bench mate, who had really only invited him out of pity anyway. He could vividly remember spending the whole evening being a wallflower, lurking on the sidelines and keeping to himself, waiting for the damn thing to end so he could go home. He hadn’t known any of the people that had been there, but each time one of them had stared at him, he could have sworn he felt their gaze pierce him like a knife.

And he was sure this ‘floor party’ was going to be the same. A bunch of strangers wondering why he was even there at all.

Hinata, however, did not seem like he was going to accept this as an answer. “It’ll be fun!”

Kenma was ready to swear on every video game he owned that it was not going to be fun. 

“It’ll be next Friday though,” Hinata continued. “At least think about it?” 

Kenma only nodded once, before swinging his door shut. He was sure he was going to think about it even more than Hinata was able to anticipate, perhaps just not in the same positive light.

He pressed his back against the now-closed door, sliding down until he was in a crouched position. He balled his fists in his hair and placed his forehead on his knees. His chest began to rise and fall even more heavily, the threat of hyperventilation overwhelming him.

_Why was such a basic task like talking to a neighbour so hard?_

_Why did he have to freak out over the mere thought of social interaction?_

_Why couldn’t he just be normal?_

Kenma lost track of how much time he remained curled up like that, thoughts of self-loathing swirling in his head like a storm he was drowning in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this honestly got written way faster than i thought it would oop
> 
> biggest of thank you's to [Neens](https://twitter.com/neenswrites) for once again being the world's greatest beta reader, i have unlimited love for her in my heart

“Hey, sir, are you ok?” 

Kuroo was vaguely aware of a voice hovering above him… wait - were they talking  _ to him _ ? He squinted his eyes open, attempting to adjust to the bright light above him. He could make out the shape of a silhouette leaning over him, but they had a light behind them that obscured their features and made them nothing except a blur. Kuroo blinked a few more times, trying to work out just exactly what was happening right now.

The floor underneath him was cold and hard and his body  _ ached.  _ It had been a long time since he’d felt pain, he’d almost forgotten what it was like. 

It took a few moments of laying in complete stillness on the pavement to realise that Kai, the  _ bastard,  _ quite literally dropped him onto the concrete.

Kuroo pushed himself onto his elbows, ignoring his body’s protests of pain at the movement. As soon as he got back up to Heaven, he was going to kick Kai’s ass. 

He lifted his gaze up to the person who had addressed him before, only to realise that they had multiplied.  _ Oh,  _ he had amassed a crowd now. It made sense. A man laying down on the sidewalk of what appeared to be an industrialised street tended to be unusual. Kuroo scanned the crowd before his eyes settled on the closest person, who he assumed had addressed him before. They couldn’t have been older than 13, but he wasn’t in a position to be picky about who he talked to.

“Where am I?” Kuroo asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position and feeling his bones creak as he did.

The person he had addressed bit their bottom lip in a show of nerves. “Um, Yanaka Ginza Shotengai?” they replied, which did not help him a single bit.

“Okay, that’s cool. But like, where?” He was aware that he sounded slightly unhinged, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “What country is this?”

“Japan? Sir, do you need me to call you a hospital?” Kuroo shook his head at that question. He didn’t need a hospital, all he needed was a goddamn  _ break.  _

But on a positive note, at least he was in Japan. It was familiar territory to him. He had grown up here, spent his whole life here… even died here. It was a territory he knew how to navigate. A small victory amongst endless losses.

Kuroo shook his head again, pushing himself up until he was seated completely upright, clutching his paper bag to his chest, and then tentatively lifted a leg to attempt to stand. It hurt, as though each of his bones was begging for him not to make the movement, but he moved anyway. 

After a torturous few moments, he was standing, and feeling the eyes of the crowd boring into him, no doubtedly wondering what the fuck happened. Instead of answering that, however, Kuroo instead grinned at them all, before dropping down into a theatrical bow. He held it for a few moments, before standing back upright and then moving forward to push past the crowd. The show was well and truly over. 

He dug into the paper bag as he walked, ignoring the stares trailing after him. He should find the apartment he’d be staying at first- at least then he’d know where to situate home base. Then, he could think about finding some poor soul who he’d attempt to help. Kuroo huffed at that. He didn’t know where he was going to find them yet, but he knew the inspiration would come to him eventually. 

His hands grasped something metallic feeling in the bag.  _ Bingo.  _ He pulled out a set of keys, complete with a tag of a written address attached. He held it up to his face, squinting at the words. He vaguely knew where that was. If he calculated correctly, it was only about a 20-minute walk from where he already was. 

He continued walking, taking in the sights of the scenes around him. It was familiar, similar enough to when he lived here to be recognisable, but still different enough to be strange to him. He had been around these parts on angel jobs in the last few years, but it was very different from having to live amongst the changes, and once again having to grow accustomed to them. 

Kuroo could only hope that he wouldn’t have to be getting used to it for long. 

He crossed another road, looking twice to check that there were no cars before crossing. He’d be there soon. He took note of the bakery and grocery store he passed on his way. No doubt they’d be useful to him in due time; he could at least enjoy human food while he was down here. 

Before he knew it, he was standing at the gate of an apartment complex. It wasn’t particularly modern, and Kuroo could only assume that was because the angels had it for a long time. It gave him a sense of comfort. At least he could feel like he somewhat belonged in a building like this. 

The lock made a clicking sound as Kuroo turned the first key, and he pushed the door open. To the left, he was greeted with a row of mailboxes, and to the right, a staircase. No elevator. Not that he minded. If anything, it was a chance to stretch his still-aching legs. He was almost tempted to fly upwards- his key said he was on the 4th floor, and he knew he could be up there in a matter of seconds, but he decided against it. It was too early in the day to risk being caught. 

So instead, Kuroo began the walk up the flights of stairs. His legs continued to ache as he moved, but he made it to his door in no time. Once the second key had been inserted, the door unlocked easily. He pushed it open, and stepped inside. 

The apartment was larger than Kuroo had expected. The furniture inside was more modern than the rest of the apartment complex looked. A short corridor led into a spacious kitchen, with cooking equipment modern enough that it would almost seem as though someone had currently been living here. He pulled open the refrigerator door to reveal some bare shelves. He’d grab some groceries or something on his next trip out - he wasn’t even sure if a fallen angel needed food to survive, but he wasn’t going to risk it. 

Kuroo continued moving through the apartment. The kitchen led into a living room that consisted of two lounges and a television mounted onto the wall. There was another corridor that Kuroo presumed led to a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom, but that didn’t matter to Kuroo just yet.

As he was standing alone in the living room, a painting hung behind the TV caught his eye. An oil painting of a woman with giant, white feathery wings, serving as a constant reminder of what he was supposed to be. Trust an angel to hang a painting of another angel in their emergency apartment. The egotistical narcissists had struck again. Seeing the white wings on that woman did trigger a thought in Kuroo, however. The words Kai told him about his wings came back to him, and suddenly he was fixated on it. It was an inconvenient thought, but at least he had enough privacy to see what they looked like.

Kuroo wasn’t the type of person to overthink things, but for some reason, the concept of his changed wings was making him increasingly nervous. It was as though seeing them changed confirmed what was happening, solidified the fact that he truly was an outcast. He shook the thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t focus on that - it wasn’t as though he could change it anyway. 

So instead he took a deep breath, and unfurled his wings. 

He tentatively turned his head to the side to face them. Instead of the white, fluffy omnipresent wings he was used to, he was instead met with pitch blackness. He blinked at them a few times. They were so dark that the individual feathers could barely be discerned; it was as though he were staring into an abyss. They were still feathery, at least, but must sleeker than he was used to. 

“Damn, they really don’t fuck around with this fallen angel aesthetic, do they?” He asked himself, his words echoing off the walls. 

He certainly didn’t hate them. If he wasn’t in such a confined space, he would have tested them out. No doubt their more streamlined appearance would allow him to move faster than he ever had before. Not that he had a need for it. 

If anything, he wished he could take them back up to The Heavens with him. They were almost a guarantee that he’d beat Bokuto in their next race. 

Kuroo tried not to dwell too long on that thought of Bokuto, knowing he’d get nostalgic very soon. The world was funny like that. He didn’t think he’d ever miss Bokuto - he basically had a guaranteed eternity to spend with his best friend - but standing in silence amongst the emptiness of his apartment, he couldn’t help but feel alone. 

One thing was clear to Kuroo now: he had to find someone as soon as possible. Before these goddamn feelings became unbearable

* * *

Kuroo let out another huff as he continued down the street. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to find someone yet, but he was hell-bent on doing it by the end of the day. 

He hadn’t yet taken back his word on finding someone so completely messed up that it was as though they were beyond repair. Kuroo planned to show Nekomata and Kai and anyone else who didn’t believe in him just how good at this he could be. Then hopefully, once he was back, they’d leave him alone. Because what good would a future punishment be if they knew he could beat it? 

So yes, while Kuroo was going to do this out of spite, he also knew that he’d be safeguarding himself against any potential future issues he’d have. It was foolproof. 

But now he just had to obtain the perfect candidate. Kuroo was scanning the aura of a few people he had strolled past (only to be met with some weird looks as he realised he’d been staring for too long). Some people’s auras were a tad murky, but nothing as dark as the challenge he was looking for. He didn’t want the cargo green of greed or the royal purple of jealousy. He wanted black as his wings. 

He just had to think. Who were the most miserable people on the planet? Who were those who felt as though they had been treated unjustly in this world, and were convinced that God had forsaken them? Which lost souls needed guidance through one of the most perilous times of their lives?

And then the idea hit him.

_ University students. _

He truly didn’t understand why he hadn’t thought of that sooner. No one on this planet needed more guidance in life than an adult who may as well still have been a child with absolutely no life direction. Surely he could find someone there. 

That was how he found himself standing outside of  _ The University of Tokyo,  _ watching each person that exited the main building and judging their potential. 

People were constantly zipping out of the grand brick building, varying degrees of exhaustion etched upon their faces. Kuroo thought that if he had slightly more of a heart, he would have pitied them. 

Instead, he focused his energy on reading the auras of anyone that looked remotely interesting. A couple of them had auras that signified exhaustion or stress, but none extreme enough for him to be interested. One girl’s aura turned into a flirty shade of pink when she caught Kuroo staring, but he didn’t pay it any heed. One of the more interesting ones was a boy with a shock of orange hair, whose aura was so golden and bright Kuroo thought he should have invested in sunglasses.

While it was certainly intriguing, and definitely not something that came along every day, he wasn’t in need of assistance, and hence was no good to Kuroo. 

The sun was beginning to set when Kuroo thought he was going to have to give up for the day. Sure, all university students seemed to be going through something, but he just hadn’t had someone stand out as he wanted them too. If he was going to spend hours upon hours helping them improve their life, then he had to at least find them interesting. 

And then surely, someone came along that made his hours of waiting seem worthwhile. 

The boy that walked out of the brick building with a backpack haphazardly slung across his back had one of the most beautiful faces Kuroo could ever remember seeing in his many, many years of existence. High cheekbones paired with big, golden eyes and dark lashes made him look even more like an angel than any one that Kuroo had ever met, even if he was hiding under a poor dye-job.

He was so trapped in his stupor that he almost forgot to read the boy’s aura. 

And  _ oh,  _ was it a surprise. 

It was everything that the boy’s angelic appearance was not. His aura was dark, so twisted and black that even just looking at it made Kuroo’s stomach twist into knots. There were no threads of light interwoven into it; no, there wasn’t anything even remotely redeeming about it. Just an overwhelming sense of drowning, of being lost at sea, that Kuroo couldn’t even begin to understand. 

But he planned to learn. 

Kuroo shook the view of the boy’s aura from his vision, and began to jog to catch up with him. He was what Kuroo had been waiting for all day; he wasn’t about to let him get away. 

“Hey, wait up!” Kuroo called out after him, but the boy didn’t stop. Had he not heard? Did he not think he was referring to him? Kuroo grumbled for a moment before calling out again. “Hey! Pudding-hair! Hello?” 

That made the boy raise his shoulders when he processed that Kuroo was referring to him, his pace slowing and slowly turning around to wait for Kuroo to catch up before speaking. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Kuroo gave him his warmest grin as he reached him. “Not yet, but, I want to be friends,” Kuroo stated, assuming simplicity and straightforwardness was the best method here. Humans liked making friends; that was a fact. He had liked making friends back when he was alive, and he could only assume that it was the same years later.

Except, maybe, this boy was different. “I think you have the wrong person, have a nice day,” he mumbled, before turning around and continuing the path he had just been walking down. 

Kuroo was frozen in place for a few seconds, attempting to register the utterly disgraceful rejection he just faced. He sprung into action when he realised the boy was getting further away, racing to catch up to him.

“Wait, no-” Kuroo reached out and grabbed the boy’s shoulder, causing him to halt once again. “Sorry, that was way too forward before. My name is Kuroo Tetsurou, what’s yours?” 

This was only met with a grimace of confusion and frustration by the boy, and the realisation that  _ clearly  _ Kuroo had spent too much time talking to Bokuto, and needed to work on his social skills. The boy shrugged Kuroo’s hand off of his shoulder, before turning his head down to stare at the ground, fists clenching in a display of something that Kuroo couldn’t comprehend. 

“Please, leave me alone.” The boy’s voice was shakier than it had been the first time, causing Kuroo to take a step back. Had he upset him that much? He didn’t think anything he’d said was enough to warrant that sort of reaction.

Something inside of Kuroo knew that it was a bad idea to push this any more today. He’d just find him again tomorrow- he knew where he went to university already, it was just a matter of waiting. So that time, when the boy turned and walked away, Kuroo didn’t follow. 

* * *

Kenma’s life had taken a weird turn. 

He could only blame it on Hinata’s newfound presence in his life. Ever since he’d spoken to him, weird things had begun happening. He’d woken up earlier than usual, so early that he didn’t need to rush to get to class on time. He’d even greeted someone on his way out of his dorm complex. 

But the weirdest by far had been the stranger from yesterday sitting outside his university once again, eyes scanning the crowd as though he were looking for someone. 

Kenma hoped he wasn’t looking for him. 

Kenma was currently watching him from one of the windows beside the exit. He was perched on a decorative brick fence, same dark skinny jeans and leather jacket as the day before. He looked unimpressed as he watched people go by, and Kenma couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been there, and what the hell he was trying to do. 

He looked the age to be a student, though Kenma thought that someone with looks like that was more likely to go into modelling; before scolding himself for stereotyping someone in that manner. 

But nevertheless, Kenma was scared to go out there in case he approached him again. He had so deeply embarrassed himself yesterday, with stuttered repudiations and a blatantly rude dismissal that Kenma didn’t think he’d ever be able to redeem himself. 

He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to, either. Who was this clearly misguided person who could look at someone like Kenma and still want to be friends? No- that just wasn’t how the world worked. In his 20 years of life, he  _ knew  _ that wasn’t how the world worked. 

So he could only conclude that this person was messing with him. That sounded more likely. The thought didn’t sit well with Kenma, as though there was something he was overlooking. He shook it off as an assumed byproduct of his anxiety. 

He did  _ not  _ need to overthink the person who was probably a stalker of some kind. 

With that in mind, he took a deep breath, grabbed the straps of his backpack, and exited through the doors. He held his head down, hoping his hair would do enough to cover his face, if by the off-chance that person was looking for him. He just had to walk, one foot in front of the other, until he was far enough to know he was in the clear. Surely whatever godly force that was out there was kind enough to grant him that.

“Hey! It’s you again!”

But then again, when had the universe ever been kind to him?

Kenma grimaced as the stranger from yesterday once again ran up to him, still wearing the same grin. Kenma was kicking himself for not remembering his name- had it been Kubo? Or Kuro? Kenma had been too deep-rooted in his panic-attack yesterday to take proper note of it. _And why did he suddenly care about it?_

The stranger approached him, once again getting too close into Kenma’s personal space for comfort. Kenma didn’t need to look up at him to know what a looming and foreboding presence he was; he was perfectly content to keep his eyes glued to the ground, and attempting to focus on keeping his breathing even.

“Remember me?” He asked, lightly tapping at Kenma’s shoulder. It wasn’t nearly as forceful as yesterday, and Kenma couldn’t stop himself wondering why. 

He was pretty sure it was dangerous to think too deeply about the actions of a stranger.

Kenma shook his head in a blatant lie. 

“Damn!” The stranger yelled at seemingly nothing. “I thought I was charming enough to leave some sort of impression. Or are you just difficult to impress?” Kenma could hear some sort of grinning lilt in his voice. 

He lifted his head up to him once again. “Do I need to call the police on you?” It was by far the boldest thing Kenma had ever said to anyone, but he  _ really  _ needed this person to go away. Each word he spoke to Kenma only furthered his anxiety; he knew he couldn’t take it for much longer. 

“No, no no no,” the stranger returned in a much quieter voice, his features softening. “I swear to- whoever- that I don’t mean you any harm or anything.” He sounded so sincere in saying that, that Kenma almost wanted to believe him. And he would have, if there wasn’t a constant alarm blaring in his head, serving to convince him that he was in danger.

So instead of saying ‘okay’ like he wanted to; instead of opening a tiny crack in his heart and allowing for the possibility of some sort of friendship, Kenma just turned around and said: “Please leave me alone.”

Not because it was what he truly wanted, but because it’s what he thought he deserved. 

* * *

So far, to put it simply, Kuroo’s plan was not working.

He was approaching his third day on Earth, and had made absolutely no progress in helping that boy yet. Whilst the logical part of Kuroo was sure he should give up on his stranger, and just find someone more willing to let him into his life, the more emotional part of him was already attached to the boy’s golden eyes and shy demeanour. 

That was how Kuroo found himself once again sitting outside  _ The University of Tokyo,  _ waiting for a familiar (and yet, still unfamiliar) blonde head to emerge. 

Kuroo wasn’t sure how long he’d have to wait today. He wasn’t even sure if he had classes on Fridays. But this was the only choice Kuroo currently had, so he was more than happy to accept it. 

It was nearing 4 P.M. when the boy walked out of his university, but something was very different. Instead of his usual quiet stroll, his shoulders were drawn up, and his eyes were rimmed red, as though he’d been crying.

Kuroo barely hesitated before running over to him, as though he were on autopilot, desperate to find out what had gone wrong. The sooner he worked it out, the sooner he could help him fix it, after all. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” The second the boy heard his voice, he froze, biting down on his lower lip and staring upwards, as though he were trying to pray away Kuroo’s very existence. 

Kuroo wasn’t offended. 

“Why are you so persistent?” The stranger mumbled, eyes shining with new unshed tears.

Kuroo wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear that, but nevertheless, he replied. “Because there’s something about you that makes me want to get to know you.” Was it ridiculously cheesy? Yes. Was it completely out of character? Also yes. 

But was it true? Yes. 

The boy only looked at Kuroo with wide eyes, as though he couldn’t process what had just been said to him; like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Come on, walk with me,” Kuroo added, guiding him by the arm, and lightly tugging him away. Bokuto had once told him that people found it easier to talk if they were walking, and Kuroo was willing to test that theory today. 

“You wanna talk about what’s going on?” Kuroo asked, hoping to snap his stranger out of whatever strange daze he was in. 

He blinked at Kuroo a couple of times, before lifting one hand to wipe at his eyes. “It’s stupid.” 

Kuroo pursed his lips. “If something upsets you, then it’s not stupid, y’know?” He was sure that most other angels would have been far more eloquent with their words, but Kuroo wasn’t ‘other angels’. He thought as long as he got his point across, who cared about the delivery. 

And based on the way that the boy was looking at him, as though he’d just handed him some sort of key to the universe, it had gotten through to him. “I guess.”

Kuroo grinned at him once again. “So? What is it?”

The boy’s shoulders sagged. “It’s just this dumb group project. One of the people I have to work with… he’s not very nice.” 

Kuroo tilted his head. “You’d rather do it alone?”

The boy huffed before continuing. “I guess. I don’t like group work very much.” 

Kuroo was trying to take as many mental notes on what he was saying, storing as much useful information as he could. So far he had: generally nervous, untrusting, has an aversion to people, and very receptive to a couple of kind words.

It gave Kuroo a lot to work with.

“Why, though? Because you’re scared of people stuffing up the work?” Kuroo was doing his best to maintain a casual tone; making sure it looked more like he was interested in listening, and not just after answers for his own benefit. Not that there was any way that this boy could have known that. 

The boy hummed in careful consideration of Kuroo’s words. “More like just scared of people, period.” 

While Kuroo couldn’t relate, he could still understand, to some degree. “I think you’re giving people too much credit, they aren’t nearly as scary as they’d want you to think. Most of them are as dumb as a stack of bricks.”

That elicited the tiniest of smiles from the boy, and Kuroo immediately wished to see it again. If he hadn’t thought this stranger was pretty before, he was certainly sure of it now. 

“You’ll be fine, yeah?” Kuroo offered him another kind smile, which the boy just returned with a nod. 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few moments as they continued walking, Kuroo spending each moment of it trying to work out what his companion could be thinking. 

It wasn’t long before he interrupted their silence. “You didn’t have to do all that today,” the boy mumbled, still walking along the sidewalk with Kuroo.

“Do what?” 

“You know,” he gestured loosely with his hands around him. “Be nice to me. Try and cheer me up. I haven’t really been the nicest to you,” he trailed off, avoiding meeting Kuroo’s eyes as they walked. 

Kuroo, however, saw this as a perfect opportunity. 

“Why don’t you make it up to me then?” Kuroo’s words made the boy look over at him with a mildly panicked look on his face. “Lunch, I mean make it up to me and come with me for lunch tomorrow?”

Kuroo was making a big gamble here. He ran the risk of this stranger thinking he was coming on far too strong, and would be taken aback enough to reject Kuroo’s proposition. Or even if he wasn’t, he could be busy tomorrow and turn Kuroo down for that. 

But instead of either of those, he looked at Kuroo and said: “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kuroo grinned in response. His plan seemed like it was finally coming together. 

“My name’s Kenma, by the way,” he muttered, eyes glued back to the ground as though he were worried he was speaking out of turn. 

“Well, Kenma, do you know that little burger joint like, three blocks that way?” Kuroo asked, pointing to their left. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow at 12.”

Kenma nodded, and gave Kuroo a quick wave before turning the way to where Kuroo could only assume he lived. 

Kuroo was finally making progress. Maybe he’d get back into the Heavens faster than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now they have met and we can finally get to the fun stuff !! thank you for reading!! feel free to drop a comment or come say hi to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kodzukuro)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a little later than usual! i hope this chapter makes up for it ahaha
> 
> as per usual, biggest of shout outs to my beta reader [Neens](https://twitter.com/neenswrites) who i am beyond appreciative for

Kuroo thought that he’d chosen this restaurant well. 

He was seated in one of the booths of the small burger restaurant, taking in its surroundings. It had a very retro theme; there was a jukebox in the corner playing songs that were a familiar comfort to Kuroo, that he couldn’t help but slightly bop his head to. The aesthetic continued with neon pink fluorescent lights accenting the skirtings of the ceiling, bouncing off of the white-tiled walls and brightening up the entire dining space. 

It wasn’t particularly busy, either- something that Kuroo had kept in mind when picking the place. He was counting on Kenma being more comfortable with fewer people, hopefully speeding up the process of opening up. There were only a few other groups in the restaurant; each spread out far enough that Kuroo could barely make out their conversations. 

Yes— he had picked the restaurant well. Now all that was missing was Kenma. 

“Sir, are you ready to order yet?” A waitress asked, wandering over to his table for the third time in the span of 30 minutes. 

Kuroo offered her a strained smile. “Not quite yet, still waiting for someone.”

The waitress flashed an equally false smile back towards him. “I hope they show up soon,” she said, turning to walk away. 

Kuroo didn’t care much for the passive aggressiveness the woman showed him, electing to instead wonder where Kenma could be. It had been around 15 minutes since their agreed upon meeting time. Had he stood him up? Changed his mind at the last second?

Or maybe he just wasn’t a punctual person. Based on his aura, he was far from perfect. Kuroo should at least attempt to be patient. 

A chime at the entrance made Kuroo snap his head up to see if  _ maybe  _ Kenma had shown up. And he had. Wearing an oversized hoodie and looking like he hadn’t slept in a week, there was Kenma. He was making his way towards Kuroo wearing an apologetic expression, hands fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. 

“Hey, um, I’m sorry that I’m late,” Kenma started with a brief bow of his head, before sliding into the booth across from Kuroo. 

Kuroo smiled in the friendliest way he could, and prayed that it didn’t look scary (like he had been told his smile did so many times before.) “No worries, did you sleep in or something?”

Kenma hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Yeah, something like that.”

Something about that didn’t sit well with Kuroo, his brain rejecting that as a plausible excuse, but he didn’t think they were yet close enough to push the topic. 

Kuroo could see the waitress eyeing them from across the room, as though she was in shock that Kuroo was indeed a customer, and not some university student just loafing around. He held up his hand at her, his fingers spread out to signal that they needed a few more minutes until they were ready to order. Or at least, Kenma did. 

He looked across the table at Kenma, who in turn had his gaze averted, as though the white ceramic table between them was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Kuroo waited a few moments to see if Kenma would say anything, or even look up at him, but it never came. 

It seemed the ball was in Kuroo’s court to start a conversation. “Do you know what you’re going to order?” 

“Just fries.” 

“You’re not hungry? We can leave and come back later, if you want.” Kuroo was suddenly very wary of the fact that his plan may be failing here. 

Kenma raised his shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t really eat much. It’s fine.” That explained the boy’s very slight figure, he must eat like a bird. Kuroo made a mental note to try and take him to as many food places as he could in the future. He couldn’t have him wasting away on his watch. 

Kuroo nodded. “Alrighty then.” 

They lapsed back into another silence after that, Kuroo trying to subtly make gestures to catch Kenma’s attention, and Kenma seemingly doing his best to completely ignore it. There had to be  _ something  _ he could do to ease Kenma’s tension, people were not supposed to be this complicated. 

“So, what do you study?” Kuroo asked. It was a good starting point, and hopefully would at least get the ball rolling on their conversation.

“Computer science.” 

Kuroo’s grin widened. “Hey! That’s really cool! You’re like a hacker.” He also thought that the thought of a solitary and private profession like computing suited Kenma a lot. He was clearly a quiet and calculating person, it seemed to fit. 

He was starting to notice patterns in Kozume Kenma that were no doubtedly going to make his job easier. 

“I don’t know how to hack.” Kenma’s nose scrunched up at his own statement. “Sorry, I’m not very good at the uh, small talk thing.” 

Kuroo laughed, another attempt to ease whatever Kenma was feeling. “You’re doing great!”

“What about you?”

“What do I think about small talk?” Kuroo cocked an eyebrow at him. 

The ghost of a smile found its way on Kenma’s face. “No, university. What are you studying?”

And  _ damn,  _ Kuroo should have created some kind of alibi in advance. He had not once planned his backstory, not thinking it’d come up in conversation. In hindsight, that was really stupid of him. 

He had to come up with something fast. He could have said what he had been studying back when he was alive, being biochemistry, but he wasn’t sure if he remembered enough of it to hold a conversation if Kenma asked. So he needed something really boring, so boring that it’d virtually force Kenma to talk about himself instead. One thing that no one would possibly ask or want to hear about came to mind. 

“Accounting! Yeah, I study accounting. Third year.” While that did not sound smooth whatsoever, based on Kenma’s soft nod, he believed him. 

“One of my neighbours does third year accounting.”

“Oh? You have a friend?” Kuroo’s interest was piqued. Kenma hadn’t brought up anyone else before, it would provide good insight. 

Kenma rubbed at the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t call him a friend. More like I help him with the math class for it. His name’s Lev Haiba. You’ve probably seen him in class.”

Kuroo nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yeah! Lev Haiba! Yup, totally know who that is.”

“You have no idea, do you?” For a brief moment, Kuroo caught Kenma’s golden eyes flickering up at him, as though he were trying to calculate every aspect of Kuroo’s entire being, but he looked down again so fast that Kuroo thought perhaps he had imagined it; an illusion of the light. 

He was saved from having to reply to that be the return of the waitress, pad of paper in hand. “What can I get you boys?”

“A beef burger for me, thanks. Kenma?” Both Kuroo and the waitress turned to look at Kenma, who instead had his shoulders drawn up around his neck, eyes once again glued to the table. It was a complete turnaround from the analytical glare he had given Kuroo only a few moments ago. Without any hesitation, Kuroo stepped in for him. “A serving of fries too.” 

Once the waitress confirmed their order, Kenma finally looked up, meeting Kuroo’s eyes once again. “Sorry-”

“For what? It’s fine.” Kuroo shrugged. He’d underestimated Kenma’s anxiety by the sounds of it, but surely they could overcome it. He probably just needed a little push. 

Kenma shook his head. “You always make me feel better.” Kuroo thought a light blush spread its way across his cheeks, but perhaps it was another trick of the light. 

Kuroo pointed his two thumbs at himself. “That’s my job, you know!” That was possibly the truest thing he’d said to Kenma yet, and for a reason unbeknownst to him, the act of being honest felt as though it lifted a weight off his chest. He hadn’t thought he had enough pride in his ‘job’ to ever admit it with a smile on his face, either. 

“Your job is to make people feel better?” Kenma asked quizzically. He had grabbed the napkin in front of him, fiddling with it by folding the corners in. Kuroo thought it was awfully endearing. 

“Yup!” 

The corner’s of Kenma’s lips turned upwards. “Like a clown?”

Kuroo couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “That’s me, Kuroo Tetsurou, professional clown at your service.”

Joking around with Kenma came very naturally to Kuroo, as though he didn’t have to overthink the words he said to him. And based on the fact that Kenma was joking right back, it was just as easy for him. Progress was already being made, and Kuroo had barely done anything yet. 

The conversation flowed a little bit easier after that, though it didn’t surpass the realms of small talk. Kuroo found out that Kenma was 20, living in Tokyo alone, his family residing in a more rural area which he visited during the holiday season, that his favourite animal was a cat, and that his number one passion in life was video games. 

Once their food arrived, Kuroo pointed out how good it was, Kenma nodding enthusiastically with a hot chip in his mouth. “How’d you find this place?” 

“I walked past it on my way to the university one time, thought it looked neat,” Kuroo replied. That was another truth. 

Kenma twiddled a fry between his fingers. “This place suits you.” 

“How so?” 

“The 80s theme.” Kuroo was sure that if he had a beating heart, it would have stopped at that moment. There was no possible way for Kenma to possibly know that Kuroo had been alive in the 80s. 

Kuroo’s grip on his burger tightened. “What do you mean?” 

“Your big hair, you know?”

Kuroo tried not to let his shoulders visibly sag with relief, instead letting a look of mock offence cross his face. 

“Youch, the kitten has claws. Claws that wound me.” He crossed his free hand over his chest. “How do I go on with my life now?”

A soft, melodic laugh bubbled from Kenma’s throat, which he raised a hand over his mouth to cover. It was a pretty laugh, quite the opposite to Kuroo’s own. He decided at that moment that it would be a personal goal to hear that laugh as many times as he could while on Earth. “The wound wasn’t fatal. You’ll live.”

There was something awfully ironic about that.

They finished their meal in a comfortable silence, ending with Kuroo getting up to pay (which Kenma had said wasn’t fair, and tried to refute, but Kuroo explained that he’d eaten more, so it was fair, and Kenma could pay next time.)

Once they exited the restaurant, they stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, neither knowing what to say. 

Kenma shifted his weight between his legs, eyeing Kuroo. The wind was causing his hair to blow around his face, obscuring the majority of Kuroo’s vision of him. 

It looked like it was up to Kuroo to speak. “Thanks for humouring me by coming along today.”

“I should be the one thanking you. It was really nice, um, should we do it again sometime?” Based on the way Kenma was fully avoiding Kuroo’s gaze, and the way his voice trailed off at the end of his question, it was wholly evident that he was expecting rejection. Kuroo wanted to reach out and hug him; the kid really was adorable.

Kuroo thought he may as well shoot his next shot. “How about tomorrow? I’m free, if you are.”

Kenma’s head snapped up, brows pinched together as though he was confused by Kuroo’s eagerness to meet up again. “Actually?”

Kuroo hummed in affirmation. “Why not? But you have to pick what we do this time, I picked today.” 

“How about the arcade on the main road? The one near the uni?” Kenma asked. “I mean, only if that’s your sort of thing. We don’t have to,” he continued, voice speeding up in a panic, clearly worried he’d overstepped a boundary. 

Kuroo rested a hand on his shoulder. “Sounds like fun. How about we get ice-cream after, too. Same time as today?” 

Kenma nodded. “Sounds good.”

Kuroo didn’t know why, but he was looking forward to seeing Kenma again. 

* * *

There were people in Kuroo’s apartment. This wasn’t quite what he had expected upon returning from lunch with Kenma. 

He stood with his head poked into the doorway, listening to voices coming from the inside of his apartment, where they certainly did not belong. They were speaking in hushed tones, Kuroo unable to make out what they were saying, or recognise the voices. 

Kuroo didn’t even know why he was hesitating on confronting whoever they were. Because really, what were they going to do? If it was an angel coming to snoop on him, then they were probably out of luck, and if it was a home robber, then well, it wasn’t like he could be killed twice. 

He stepped into his apartment, quietly shutting the door behind him as to ensure he didn’t alert anybody of his presence, and slowly crept his way into the apartment. He kind of hoped it was Kai, he had a piece of his mind ready to give him. 

It wasn’t Kai. Sprawled out on the couch was none other than Bokuto Koutarou, with Akaashi Keiji standing right beside him. Kuroo didn’t hesitate to take off into a run, leaping over the back of the couch to tackle Bokuto into a hug. It didn’t take Bokuto more than three seconds to work out what had happened, arms wrapping back around Kuroo, rambunctious laughter from the both of them filling the space of the apartment. 

“Dude, I missed you so much up there! It’s crazy boring without you,” Bokuto pouted, releasing Kuroo from a chokehold. “I had to come visit.”

“Even though we were strictly told not to,” Akaashi chimed in from his spot, arms crossed against his chest. 

Kuroo jumped off of Bokuto to go and sling his arm around Akaashi’s shoulder. “And yet you came anyway?”

Akaashi lightly shook his head. “Someone had to babysit.” A soft smile had crossed his face. 

Bokuto tucked his legs underneath himself so he was facing them both. “So what’s it like being back among people?”

Aside from Kenma… there wasn’t much else to say. Kuroo grimaced. “People are people.”

“What?” Akaashi asked, shrugging Kuroo’s arm off his shoulders. “You’ve been down here almost a week, and you've yet to find any good at all?” He looked pointedly at Kuroo, as though he were accusing him of an unholy crime. 

“You know I hate people. Why would you think I’d find good in helping them?” Kuroo may have said that, but something felt wrong. Like there was a certain blonde-haired human’s laugh making him reconsider. Not that he’d tell Akaashi that.

Akaashi clicked his tongue. “I don’t understand you, sometimes.” 

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow at him. “What’s not to understand?”

“You hate people, and yet you choose to be an angel, when our fundamental goal is to help people. Why not just choose to reincarnate?” Kuroo was aware of both Akaashi and Bokuto’s eyes staring him down, awaiting an answer to something they’ve both previously wondered. 

Kuroo ran a tentative hand through his hair. “Are you guys serious? You want me gone that badly?” A teasing smirk crossed his face.

“No!” Bokuto interjected a fraction too fast. “Of course not. We love you. You’re family! But you’re not happy, y’know? We wanna see you happy.” The earnest look on Bokuto’s face almost made Kuroo regret being an asshole moments prior. 

“The only thing worse than helping the thing you hate, is becoming the thing you hate.”

Kuroo had thought of reincarnating. He’d thought of it for many days that bled over into thinking about it for many nights. The possibility of reincarnating meant that he wouldn’t be ‘bound’ to helping people any more; he’d be on the receiving end. But it also meant running the risk of coming to an end just as he had last time, hurt and alone. 

No, he wouldn’t put himself back in a position to be hurt again. Reincarnation wasn’t an option.

“That was too philosophical for you,” Akaashi deadpanned. It was hard to tell whether he was joking or not, his sharp eyes too analytical to convey what he truly meant. 

Bokuto coughed, clearing his throat in an indication he wanted to change the topic. He never had been good at carrying a heavy conversation for more than a fleeting moment, something Kuroo was grateful for. “So, have you made any progress? Found a human to help?”

Kuroo nodded. “Yup! I met this boy, his name’s Kenma. He’s adorable.” 

He was vaguely aware of the confused look Akaashi was giving him. It brought him a lot of joy to know he was the only person in existence who could baffle Akaashi like this on a near-daily basis. “I thought you literally just said you hated people.”

Kuroo’s lips pursed together. “He’s not really a person.”

This caused Akaashi to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Kuroo, please tell me you’re talking about a human being, and you’re not trying to help a cat or something.”

“Cats are cute though! Kuroo should be able to help a cat get a better life if he wants to,” Bokuto added, looking very proud of himself. He really was always in Kuroo’s corner, the best best friend a person could ask for. 

“He cannot help a  _ cat,  _ that was not in his terms.” Kuroo felt the intense need to tell Akaashi that Kenma was very similar to a cat in many ways, but he bit his tongue to let Bokuto have his fun.

“What is a cat if not a small fluffy person with a tail who cannot speak?” 

Akaashi looked up at Bokuto, horror written on every feature of his face. “Bokuto-san, please tell me you’re joking.” 

Kuroo lifted a hand to cover his mouth in an attempt not to start laughing, his shoulders already beginning to shake. It was a game that he and Bokuto had played for as long as he could remember, the rules completely unspoken. They only had to push the boundaries of their stupidity, making sure Akaashi thought they were serious; an attempt to rile him up. 

“Is meowing not their own form of language?” 

That was all it took for Kuroo to clutch his stomach and burst into laughter, now unable to hold himself back. The combination of the ridiculous sentence and the faux-bougie way Bokuto asked it was too much for Kuroo to bear. Bokuto followed suit in his own laughter. Akaashi, on the other hand, hit them both in the back of the heads. “I cannot stand you two.” 

“Aww, don’t be like that, you love us,” Kuroo stuttered between wheezes. 

Akaashi moved to perch himself on the arm of the sofa. “Of course I do. That’s why I need to know you’re making progress.  _ Actual progress.  _ So you can come back.” 

“Akaashi,” both Kuroo and Bokuto cooed in unison, drawing out the vowels in his name. They moved from their respective positions standing and lying on the sofa to wrap him into a hug. 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Kuroo wiped a fake tear from his cheek. “I love you, too. Both of you.”

“Cool,” Akaashi interjected. “Now isn’t the time to be sappy, though. Tell us about the progress you’re making, we’ll see if we have any advice to help you out.” 

Kuroo sat down on the adjacent sofa from them, both of them turned to face him in a way that made him feel as though he was facing a job interview. He told them how he met Kenma, how reluctant he was at first, but ultimately went out with him earlier in the day. He explained everything he’d learned, that he was constantly nervous and seemed to have a horrible perception of self, but that Kuroo had worked out that he was really receptive to positive reinforcement. 

“Okay, first of all,” Bokuto started once Kuroo had finished his explanation, “Bro, you talk about him like he’s either a child or a science experiment. Try looking at him like he’s a person! Like he’s a friend.” Kuroo tilted his head to the side, hadn’t he already considered Kenma a friend? 

“Bo, I don’t think he’s an experiment at all, I’m just looking for opportunities where I can help him out. He’s great,” Kuroo shrugged.

Akaashi hummed in careful consideration. “You’re defensive of him already. How interesting.” 

Kuroo didn’t know exactly what Akaashi was implying, but he was sure he didn’t like it. “Not defensive, just honest!”

“Okay, Kuroo.” Akaashi’s tone fully indicated that this was not up for discussion any further, causing Kuroo to scowl. “So how are you going to help him?”

“I’ve been trying to make him go out and do stuff with me to try and get him out of his shell a little first, y’know? Like today we went for lunch, and tomorrow we’re going to an arcade.” Kuroo wasn’t aware that his scowl had turned into a smile whilst speaking until his cheeks began to hurt. “Then hopefully, he’ll open up a little, and I can give him some good ol’ fashion Kuroo advice.” 

“Your advice is terrible,” Akaashi and Bokuto said in unison, as though they had rehearsed it. It was a terrible shot to Kuroo’s ego. 

Akaashi continued. “But I think getting him out there in the world will help. It sounds like you’re on track.”

That was a good sign, Akaashi’s blunt honesty had never led Kuroo astray. Kuroo gave him a thumbs up. “I think I’ve got it handled.” 

Akaashi blinked at him. “Just make sure you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew.” 

* * *

Kenma didn’t understand Kuroo at all. 

He had tried to do his best analysis of him yesterday, to work out what his intentions were for suddenly wanting to become friends with a stranger (and one like Kenma, at that) and so far he had come up empty. He’d been nothing except kind and friendly, albeit a little bit of a clown. He was all easy smiles and care-free attitude, growing on Kenma faster than he had expected. After all, he’d never had someone so persistently want to be in his life - no one had never even tried before. 

Kenma wished he could just relax and let himself fall into some rhythm with Kuroo, but it was too foreign, too strange. He couldn’t stop his heart racing whenever he tried to hold a conversation, couldn’t stop himself fiddling or his leg bouncing. Not that it seemed to bother Kuroo at all; in fact, if Kenma hadn’t watched his eyes flickering down to the movements Kenma was making, he would have thought he hadn’t noticed at all. 

Kenma’s only question was  _ why.  _ Perhaps he’d try and suss it out of him today. He wanted to know what someone like Kuroo could possibly want with someone like Kenma, why he was so persistent. 

The man was an enigma, and one Kenma was desperate to solve. Lest he let himself get hurt in the process. 

“Sorry I’m a little late!” Kuroo called from further down the pavement, walking up to meet Kenma. He was waving his hand as he approached Kenma, who was leaning on one of the columns outside the arcade. He had traded his usual leather jacket for a denim one, making him look far less intimidating than he had before. Younger, even. “I had some old friends surprise me and visit last night, they left a little later than expected.”

Kenma stored that piece of information for later, Kuroo so rarely spoke about his personal life, usually opting for short, clipped responses that left Kenma with more questions than answers. “I haven’t been here for long,” Kenma mumbled. 

“Sweet, are we going in?” Kenma nodded, and Kuroo pulled open the glass-paned door, gesturing for Kenma to go in. “Short people first.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re freakishly tall,” Kenma grumbled, entering through the door anyway and stepping into the arcade. 

Kenma had always loved arcades growing up, revelling in the fact it was a majorly solitary activity. He didn’t have to work with others, he didn’t have the chance to let them down or disappoint in some way. The neon signs and arcade ambience had always been a second home to him. One of the times he was able to get out of his head was pressing the buttons on an arcade machine, the patterns making much more sense to him than those in any person. 

That was why he wanted to bring Kuroo here. Perhaps, in an environment where Kenma felt more comfortable, he’d be able to analyse him without his mind being clogged with other things. 

“Where are we gonna start?” Kuroo looked at him expectantly. Kenma only shrugged. He certainly didn’t have a preference, he knew his way around every game in here. Kuroo looked around for a moment, eyes scanning the rows and rows of games, before he noticed one in a back corner, his eyes lighting up. “Oh man, I loved Space Invaders back in the day!” With that, he grabbed Kenma’s wrist and pulled him along to the back corner with him, ensuring he didn’t get lost in the crowds. Kenma appreciated the gesture.

“Why do you always talk like you’re an old man? You’re what, 20? 21?” Kenma rolled his eyes as Kuroo tugged him in his direction. He wondered, if Kuroo was distracted enough by video games, would he let more information about himself slip?

Kuroo laughed. “21. I’m 21. I’ll be in a nursing home before I know it.” Once they had reached space invaders (and Kenma had taught him how the card swiping system worked to get the game started.) “Do you want to play?” He asked him, to which Kenma shook his head. He’d watch Kuroo do it first, it gave him time to study him. 

“Suit yourself,” Kuroo shrugged, before starting to aggressively mash the buttons on the machine. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in a sign of concentration, which was way cuter than it had any right to be, in Kenma’s opinion; a thought which he scrunched his nose up at. He certainly shouldn’t be having thoughts like that at all. Once Kuroo had lost all his lives, he turned back to Kenma, a pout on his lips. “It’s so much faster than I remember.”

“I don’t think it looked any more sped up than usual,” Kenma replied, walking to the machine. “Let me see.” 

Kuroo moved to the side, making room for Kenma to stand in front of the ancient-looking Space Invaders machine. He swiped his membership card again, watching the game start up as he fell into the familiar rhythm of tapping buttons in time with the taps of his foot. 

He could feel Kuroo hovering right behind him, completely unaware of the concept of personal space. “Hey, you’re really good at this!” He called over Kenma’s shoulder. 

“I’ve just practiced a lot-”

“Give yourself some credit! You’re crazy impressive, especially with this weird sped up version.” Kenma tried to will the heat rising in his cheeks  _ away.  _ He wasn’t used to being praised by, well, anyone really. It was an entirely foreign concept to him. 

He didn’t even know how to reply. “It’s not sped up.”  _ Because that made him sound appreciative.  _

“Damn,” Kuroo clicked his tongue. “Things really have changed since I was a kid.” There was something wistful in Kuroo’s voice that Kenma couldn’t even begin to describe, but he hoped to understand. He’d try to, anyway. 

“Where’d you grow up?” Kenma asked in a hushed tone, as to not snap Kuroo out of wherever his mind had taken him. 

He couldn’t see Kuroo behind him, but he could almost feel him thinking, as though Kenma were almost privy to his innermost thoughts. The beeps and buzzes coming from the  _ Space Invader  _ machine filling the atmosphere between them. “Nagasaki.”

“When did you move?” 

Kuroo poked Kenma’s sides, which sent a jolt through his body, startling him and ultimately distracting him from the game. “What is this, an interrogation? I moved for university.”

“You made me die,” Kenma whispered, in reference to the game. He turned around to look back at Kuroo, who had his hands in his pockets in an oddly defensive stance.

There was definitely something going on that hadn’t quite clicked into place for Kenma yet. He’d work it out, eventually. He had to. 

“Then just restart,” Kuroo said with a grin. 

Kenma hummed. “Why don’t we find something else to play?”

They cycled through a lot of the games over the course of the next few hours, Kuroo mesmerised by the modern ones with the touch screen, and Kenma kicking his ass at every single one they tried. They played a few rounds of air hockey, which Kuroo was much better at than he’d led Kenma to believe. He also had absolutely no right looking  _ that  _ attractive when he played, but Kenma certainly didn’t notice that. 

Eventually, a claw machine caught Kuroo’s eye, him once again tugging Kenma by the sleeve of his hoodie towards it. “I have accumulated lots of coins and I am going to defeat this machine,” he declared, chest puffed out. Kenma peeked inside, seeing an array of stuffed animals that made him wonder why Kuroo was trying at all. But nevertheless, Kuroo put his first coin in, and began. 

Kenma watched him lose about one thousand times, give or take a few. But every time Kenma suggested that he give up, Kuroo dramatically monologued that Kenma had  _ no  _ faith in him, to which Kenma would just shake his head and watch Kuroo fail again. It got to the point where Kenma pulled out his phone, opting to play a game on it while Kuroo did whatever he was trying to do, whether it was win, or test Kenma’s patience by losing on purpose. 

A rejoiced “Aha!” snapped Kenma’s attention back to Kuroo, who was fist-pumping the air. “I said I’d beat this machine, and I did.” He reached his arm into the prize hole of the machine, pulling out something black that Kenma couldn’t immediately identify.

He immediately held it out to Kenma. “For you.” 

Kenma hesitantly accepted the small toy, turning it over in his hands to reveal that it was a black cat with big golden eyes. Kenma clutched it to his chest. “You didn’t have to do that for me.” 

“It’s fine! I wanted to! Thank you for accepting him. May you think of me every time you look at him,” Kuroo said, his ever-present grin absolute on his face. Kenma was sure that he was certainly going to remember him whenever he looked at this cat, which he had already internally named ‘Kuro’. “Was there anything else you wanted to do here? Or is it ice-cream time?”

Kenma shook his head, hoping enough of his hair had fallen into his face to obscure his obvious blush from Kuroo’s view. “Let’s go.” 

No, Kenma wasn’t sure what higher power forced Kuroo into his life, but he was grateful for it. More so than he was willing to admit to anyone, least of all himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope that was as fun to read as it was fun to write!! feel free to drop a comment with your thoughts or come say hi to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kodzukuro)
> 
> also the next update might take a little longer than usual due to the amount of ship weeks I'm trying to write for as well as exams, but hopefully it won't be too long!!
> 
> thanks for the read!!! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! sorry for the month wait on this, life's been a little crazy! this chapter is extra long though, so hopefully it makes up for that!!
> 
> IN VERY EXCITING NEW THE CRAZY TALENTED [REX](https://twitter.com/RedLinxee) MADE ART FOR THIS, WHICH YOU CAN SEE [HERE](https://twitter.com/RedLinxee/status/1282510184749858816?s=20) and i literally tear up every time i look at it, shes amazing !! 
> 
> heads up, there's a depiction of a panic attack in this chapter !! the section is marked with '***' at the beginning and end, and if it's potentially upsetting to you in any way, please skip it! there's a very brief summary of it in the end notes, but no important plot points that you'll be missing!
> 
> as usual, thank you to the amazing and wonderful [Neens](https://twitter.com/neenswrites) for helping me with this !!

The buzzing of students leaving the university was starting to become a routine comfort to Kuroo. He had spent more time sitting on this brick fence, waiting for Kenma’s familiar blonde head to appear, than doing anything else since he arrived on Earth. 

Realistically, he knew he was wasting his time. As he had separated from Kenma yesterday after their catch-up, Kenma had confirmed that his last lecture of the day ended at  _ 3:55,  _ so he’d be out by 4:05 at the latest. Kuroo had nodded, and asked if they could grab something to eat after class, since Kuroo’s last class ended at the same time (a lie, but he wasn’t quite ready to seem like a total stalker just yet). Kenma had agreed, far less reluctant than the day before. Kuroo called that progress. 

So yes, Kuroo had been waiting here for two hours already, even when he knew well and truly that Kenma wasn’t going to be out for at least another twenty minutes, but it was a safeguard against Kenma’s potential early departure. He had let it slip yesterday that he was prone to skipping classes, something Kuroo had teased him about being a rebel for. 

Kuroo twisted his neck side to side, stretching it out, before looking down at his watch again. Nineteen minutes now. There was a warm tightness in his chest at the thought of seeing Kenma again that Kuroo wasn’t able to put into words, no matter how hard he thought about it. Anticipation, he assumed, albeit he didn’t know if it was the thought of progressing in his mission to get back up to The Heavens, or something deeper within him. The thought hadn’t surfaced yet. 

He looked up at the sky above him. There were a couple of clouds lazily spread out, but otherwise it was an expanse of clear blue. It was a perfect day, really. If he didn’t run the risk of being seen, he’d be enjoying it by flying over the city, feeling the warmth of the sun spread through his wings. But alas, that wasn’t what the day was set to entail. He wondered if he could convince Kenma to come to a beach with him, they could stop off and get snacks along the way. Kenma was someone who clearly needed to photosynthesise, a little bit of sunshine would do him some good. Kuroo also wondered how his golden eyes would look in the sunlight, but that was a strictly professional thought.

He spared another glance at his watch. Nine minutes. Time felt as though it were going slower than usual, each minute passing was a short eternity. Or perhaps Kuroo’s patience was just running thinner than usual, being back on earth and surrounded by humans finally draining him. Soon though, he’d go out with Kenma and recharge his battery. 

Five minutes. Kuroo felt a little bit stupid counting down the minutes, but it was part of his job. He had to be vigilant, make sure he didn’t miss him. It was better than being late, such as he had been yesterday. Akaashi had insisted that he and Bokuto stayed the night, so they could help Kuroo pick an outfit for what they had dubbed his ‘date’. Apparently Akaashi thought the leather jacket distasteful. It didn’t stop Kuroo wearing it again today. 

Kuroo idly hummed a tune to a song he had once loved. He’d forgotten the name of it long ago. 

_ Three minutes.  _

Was it normal to be so jittery while waiting for a friend? Kuroo couldn’t remember ever feeling fuzziness in his chest when it had come to anybody else. 

_ Two minutes.  _

Kuroo ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it further. Two students walked past him, one detailing the date she’d been on over the weekend. He wondered what it’d be like to have that normalcy again, although he wasn’t sure he missed it in the first place. 

_ One minute.  _

He paid close attention to the people around him. Fashion hadn’t changed all that much, at least. He didn’t feel too alien.

Now. 

As soon as Kuroo’s watch hit  _ 3:55,  _ he snapped his attention back to the front entrance of the university; the same one Kenma always departed from. It was unrealistic to think he’d get out so swiftly, but Kuroo could dream. 

The soft swirling in his chest intensified with each passing moment. Kuroo recognised a couple of people exiting the building from his previous days spent observing, but none of them were his person. He took another look at his watch.  _ 4:00.  _

Kuroo tapped his fingers against the brick wall, the rhythm of the same song he’d just been humming. Perhaps he and Kenma should go to a park today instead. It was closer than the beach, it wouldn’t be dusk by the time they arrived. 

_ 4:07.  _ Kenma was running late, but Kuroo wouldn’t hold it against him. Maybe he had a question, or he had to do something with that group project he’d mentioned earlier. Kuroo had spent a cumulative 15 hours waiting for Kenma over the span of four days, he wasn’t about to get into a twist over two minutes. 

Or five, ten, fifteen, or twenty. 

When his watch displayed  _ 4:30  _ to him was when he began to get nervous. Had he missed Kenma depart? No - he couldn’t have. He’d been watching the entry with keen eyes, and he was certain he could spot Kenma in a crowd. 

Which means he hadn’t exited. Which at this point, probably meant he hadn’t come at all. 

The pleasant buzz in Kuroo’s chest shifted to a wholly unpleasant gnawing at his gut. He bit his bottom lip, this wasn’t in the plan at all. 

_ 5:00. _

He regretted not asking Kenma where he lived, or at least getting his phone number. Kuroo had no way of contacting him, and no way of finding out how to.

Kuroo’s brows creased together in concern. Had Kenma gotten hurt somehow? Was he ill? Was he avoiding university altogether? Or was he specifically avoiding Kuroo?

There were too many unknown variables for Kuroo to come to a sensible judgement that felt believable to him. He didn’t yet know Kenma well enough to be able to predict what the leading cause of his absence would be. 

Kuroo could only hope he was okay. He’d come and wait again tomorrow, and pray that his Kenma would show up.

He tried not to let the overactivity of his brain overwhelm him as he gingerly walked away, looking over his shoulder one more time to ensure he hadn’t missed him.

Kenma wasn’t there. But tomorrow was a new day.

* * *

***

Kenma was pretty certain he was drowning. 

Air wasn’t entering his lungs as easy as it usually did, each inhale and exhale laborious. His chest ached from the constant strain. In. Out. He couldn’t do it, despite how basic the task should have been to complete, it hurt too much. 

He wanted to just let go, just let his body call the shots on how to handle this, but he was scared he’d reach the point of no return, his chest aching too much to be a guarantee that he’d come out the other end of this still breathing. The tempest coursing through his veins was threatening to break him apart. 

Kenma balled his fist into the sheets of his bed, gripping them tightly enough that his hand began to sting. He wouldn’t let them go, it felt like one of the only things connecting him and reality. 

He took another shaky breath, trying to force air back into his lungs. Kenma was self-aware enough to know what was happening to him; he’d overthought the past few days and spiralled himself into a panic attack - but he wasn’t strong enough to pull himself back out of it. 

The volume of his thoughts were deafening, he was lost in them. There wasn’t a lighthouse in sight to guide him back to shore against the raging storm. 

Kenma bit his bottom lip in a futile attempt to  _ feel anything else that wasn’t this vile suffocation,  _ but all he got was a disgusting metallic taste in his mouth. 

How had he gotten into this situation in the first place? 

He’d gotten better at managing these episodes as he got older, he could ward off panic attacks of most magnitudes by diverting his attention to video games or music that he blared so loudly they overpowered even his loudest thoughts. 

Not today, though. Today’s thoughts had been so foreign he hadn’t anticipated their sneak attack on him. 

The moment he’d gotten back from his Sunday out with Kuroo, he couldn’t stop overthinking the whole ordeal. 

Kuroo seemed like such a  _ good  _ person, there was a light in him that Kenma hadn’t seen in anyone else. Kenma was only going to tarnish that, Kuroo would realise that soon enough. And then he’d grow to resent Kenma, maybe put up with him for a couple of weeks before he couldn’t handle his presence any more, and then abandon him. Not that Kenma would blame him for it; Kenma would have abandoned himself years ago if he could. 

Kenma was a waste of time; a waste of space. Anyone could see it. He certainly could.

He didn’t at all understand why Kuroo had chosen Kenma to try and make a friend out of, but he’d see the error soon enough. There wasn’t a point launching himself into any form of relationship with Kuroo when the inevitable outcome was Kuroo growing tired of him, he’d take himself out of the equation so Kuroo didn’t have to worry about hurting Kenma’s feelings. 

He lifted his hands up to his face again, burying his head in the sleeves of his hoodie, trying to wipe at the stream of tears, only finding them instantly replaced with a new bout. He didn’t know why he tried to stop them any more. There wasn’t a point. 

A soft knock echoed in his room, someone at the front door. Kenma did not want to deal with whoever the fuck that was, especially if it was Lev asking for help. He tightened his arms around himself, unmoving, in a curled up position from the bed. 

Kenma knew himself well enough to know that he wasn’t going to be able to calm down today, not enough to face anybody, or get up and go to his classes. If he tried, he’d probably mess up and make a fool of himself. Other students imparting their judgement upon him was the last thing he needed right now. 

Tomorrow was a new day. He’d try again. 

***

* * *

Kenma didn’t show up to class on Tuesday, either.

* * *

The third day of Kenma’s absence had Kuroo more worried than he thought he’d be. 

He was sitting in his usual spot along the wall, waiting for the sign of a familiar blonde to put his mind at ease. It was Wednesday now, three days since Kuroo had last seen Kenma. His absence had affected Kuroo more than he thought it would. 

Attachments were a thing that Kuroo hadn’t planned on developing upon his arrival to Earth, but a certain person had swiftly proven him wrong, pulling the rug right out from under his feet. Kuroo had quickly learnt that Kenma wasn’t like most people, he was genuinely himself at all times, smart, funny, and every other quality that every other person Kuroo had ever met wholly lacked. 

Perhaps that was why his lack of presence over the last few days had affected Kuroo in such a visceral way. Kenma’s company was one of the few things on Earth that was a comfort, something he could count on. Loneliness had never really been an issue for him, the thought of isolation wasn’t a scary one, yet he felt them when Kenma wasn’t around. 

He just hoped Kenma was alright. That was what he should have been considering above his own feelings. The unpleasant twisting at his gut still hadn’t subsided, however. Like an alarm going off in his body, warning him of a hazard he wasn’t aware of. 

All he could do was wait for Kenma to show up again. And then he’d ask for his number, and maybe his address too. He wasn’t planning on letting whatever this was happen again, plus he’d finally put that phone Kai had given him to good use. 

Kuroo tapped his leg against the cool bricks underneath him. Was waiting today pointless? Kenma had to show up eventually. Then he could continue with his job.

Another hour or so passed before finally, Kenma appeared. Looking far worse than Kuroo had ever seen him, but standing and okay and  _ here,  _ and Kuroo couldn’t ask for anything else. Kuroo hopped down from his perch and made his way in a power walk to Kenma. He had his hoodie pulled up over his head, but it was still undeniably him, Kuroo could pick him out of any crowd now. But as he got closer, Kuroo felt his heart turn to lead and plummet down his chest. There were circles so dark under Kenma’s eyes that they looked drawn on - had he slept at all since Kuroo had last seen him? His bottom lip was puffy, his eyes bloodshot. If Kuroo knew if Kenma was okay with physical affection, he would have pulled him into a tight hug on sight. Whatever had happened, whatever he was going through, Kenma was the last person on the planet who Kuroo thought deserved it. Kuroo wanted to take all that suffering from him; he wished he had that kind of power. 

Being an angel had never felt so useless. 

“Kenma! Oi, Kenma!” He called after him, trailing a few steps behind him. Kenma didn’t slow down or turn around. A bad sign. 

“Kenma-” Kuroo reached forward, gripping Kenma’s elbow in a light grip, just tight enough to stop him. “Hey, what’s going on with you?” 

“Leave me alone,” Kenma hissed, still not turning around to meet Kuroo’s eyes. 

Kuroo was beyond confused. Had they not made a sliver of progress over the past week? It was as though the time they spent together had been nullified to Kenma, reverting him back to the first base. 

“What do you mean?” Kuroo’s voice was soft. He didn’t want to sound as disappointed as he felt, he didn’t need Kenma to feel any worse. 

Kenma kicked a pebble on the ground. “Don’t talk to me.” 

Kuroo wasn’t going to let himself succumb to the panic that was threatening to bubble in his chest. There was a logical explanation for this, perhaps a misunderstanding. Kenma couldn’t have worked out Kuroo was an angel who’d been lying to him, there was no way. He hadn’t said anything with ill-intent during their last catch-up, and had even made plans to meet up again. It wasn’t that either. As far as Kuroo was concerned, he had no reason to be mad at him. His mind was whirring trying to solve this mystery. Every time Kuroo thought he was starting to understand Kenma, the other boy turned the tables on him again, again, constantly disorienting him. But he’d get there. He knew he would. He just had to work out how to get over this bump. 

“Come on, Kenma, what’s happening?” Somewhere along the line, a switch had flicked in Kenma, turning their blossoming friendship into something wilted and distasteful. 

Kenma loosely tried to shrug Kuroo off, but he didn’t let go. “Why do you care?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Kuroo questioned, tightening his grip on kenma’s arm slightly. Kenma had a habit of running away from his problems, but Kuroo wasn’t going to let him this time. 

Kenma instantly turned to face him, the scowl on his face so fierce that Kuroo couldn’t help but feel unnerved. “What’s wrong with  _ you?” _

Kuroo shook his head. “I don’t understand. Please help me understand.” It was a genuine plea, he didn’t know how to fix this issue if he couldn’t identify said issue in the first place.

“Why would you want to waste your time on something like that?” 

And suddenly, the issue was crystal clear. Kenma’s problem was not with Kuroo. Kenma’s problem laid with himself. While this was a slight relief, Kuroo wasn’t quite out of the frying pan yet. He still had to convince Kenma of  _ something.  _ Something that wouldn’t make him leave, not yet.

“It’s not a waste of time. Not if it’s about you.” 

Kenma’s eyes became glassy, but the hurt look on his face didn’t soften. “That’s ridiculous, why would you ever think a thought like that?” His words were supposed to sound angry, that much was clear in his tone and the snarl of his tip lip. But based on the way his voice broke as he asked his question, the way it had no edge to it, it seemed he was more scared than anything else. Kuroo’s heart ached at the thought. 

“Because I care about you!” He yelled, magnitudes louder than he had intended. 

And  _ oh.  _

_ Holy shit.  _

_ He cared about Kenma.  _

Kuroo knew logically that there was a part of him that saw Kenma as more than just a little project - he was a friend. It was evident in the way he worried about him when he wasn’t within arms reach. But  _ caring  _ was a whole new maze that Kuroo hadn’t realised he’d been in the midst of navigating. 

But saying it out loud felt right. It felt honest and true, and perhaps later Kuroo could focus on how unprofessional it was, how it could prove to be detrimental to his progress. But as it was, he didn’t care about that. All he cared about in that moment was the feelings of the person before him. 

Kenma’s bottom lip quivered, his eyes widened. He was frozen in place, as though he couldn’t process Kuroo’s words. 

In that case, Kuroo would have to take matters into his own hands. “I care about you more than I thought I was capable of.” Kuroo’s tone was softer this time, sincerity written on the light curve of his smile. He loosened his grip on Kenma’s arm, instead placing it loosely on the top of his arm.

Kenma’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Then you must be really fucking stupid.” His voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

Kuroo sighed. “Y’know, you can keep pushing me away all you want. I’m not gonna budge.” Kuroo was dead set on this, he  _ wanted  _ to be in Kenma’s life. He was sure of that. 

He wanted to be there for each step of Kenma’s progress, he wanted to be there to help him reclaim his life. He wasn’t going to let whatever was going on in Kenma’s head get in the way of that. Kuroo couldn’t let his own anguish or confusion on Kenma’s current actions get in the way of that. 

“Can I tell you something for a minute?”

Kenma still seemed to be at a complete loss for words, lips slightly parted, but he nodded anyway, content to let Kuroo do the talking for a little longer until he was composed enough to speak himself.

“I fucking hate people. Like, seriously. I can’t stand being around ‘em for more than a couple of minutes at a time. Can’t wait to get away from them. But you know what? I’ve never had a thought like that around you. Because you, Kozume Kenma, are one of the most interesting and genuine people I’ve ever met in my life. So don’t you let anybody else, even yourself, convince you that you’re anything less than incredible. Because that’s what you are. And I mean every word I just said, hand on my heart.” 

Kuroo meant every word he said, and it was far more unfeigned than Kuroo could ever remember being in his whole life, including his afterlife. He’d never so desperately wanted to convince a person of their worth than he had Kenma. 

He may have only known Kenma for a handful of days, but Kuroo wasn’t a fool. He knew something good when he saw it. Now he only had to persuade Kenma that he was indeed good, and should think of himself in that light too. 

There were bastards out there who were disgustingly in love with themselves, even though they were terrible, horrible people. There were humans out there who were shallow and self-centred who thought they deserved the world. 

And then there was Kenma, who seemingly thought nothing of himself, but deserved more than all those assholes put together. Kuroo wished he could channel their energy and fire it straight into Kenma’s heart. 

Kenma began to tremble, Kuroo feeling his shaking under his hands. Instead of subjecting him to the mortifying ordeal of having to reply to what Kuroo had just said (Kuroo was well aware that Kenma wasn’t a man of many words, but Kuroo had certainly just spoken enough for the both of them), Kuroo gripped his shoulders and pulled Kenma into a hug, wrapping his arms around Kenma’s shoulders. 

Kuroo had always been the physically affectionate type, that was how he showed his appreciation to people like Bokuto and Akaashi. Hugging Kenma felt somewhat different than hugging his other friends though. Like this hug symbolised something akin to trust, not just a casual embrace. He felt Kenma’s arms rise up, loosely enveloping Kuroo’s lower back in a return of the gesture. Kuroo had his chin resting on the top of Kenma’s head, Kenma’s slight form still shaking- Kuroo wasn’t sure if it was nerves, or if he was crying. He wasn’t about to ask.

He was well aware of the fact that people were staring. It was an odd sight to see two boys embracing in such a manner right outside of a university campus, but Kuroo did not give even a single fuck about that. And with his arms wrapped tightly around Kenma, he’d shield him from their judgemental glares as well.

Not that Kenma could see them. He had his face buried in Kuroo’s chest; not even Kuroo knew what expression he was wearing. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let go until Kenma pulled back. 

After a few moments, he let go of Kuroo. Upon inspection, his eyes were tinged with a newfound shade of red. So he had been crying. Kuroo wasn’t going to mention it. 

“No one’s ever said anything to me like that before,” Kenma whispered, a nervous smile playing on his lips. “I’m sorry.” 

Kuroo tried to give the most reassuring, earnest smile he could. “I’ll say stuff like that till you get it through that thick skull of yours.” He lightly rapped against Kenma’s forehead with his knuckles to emphasise his point. “And there’s nothing to apologise for.” 

“I was kind of a dick to you just then.” Kenma nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. 

Kuroo laughed. “You think that was being a dick? Man, you’re an angel compared to me.” 

He thought himself very clever for that particular quip. 

“I don’t believe you. Dicks don’t comfort emotionally unstable people who say stuff like that.” Kenma’s voice was starting to lose its wobble, a clear sign he was close to being calm again. Kuroo was beyond relieved. 

“Nah, they do, I promise.” 

“Then thank you, really. It uh, meant a lot.” Kenma’s gaze averted once again. 

Kuroo placed a hand over his heart, chest puffed out. “What else are clowns for?” They stood in silence, prompting Kuroo to continue. “Can we talk about it though? If you’re comfortable, that is. I dunno, might help you to get it out there.” That was possibly the least smooth way Kuroo could have asked that. He wanted to understand the root of Kenma’s problems, then he’d be able to help him find solutions. Then Kuroo could return to The Heavens. That was still the plan, right?

Kenma’s eyes glanced from side to side, as though he were suddenly aware that he was in the middle of a busy footpath, popped from the bubble and Kuroo had been in before. “I guess, I mean it’s only fair to you. But can we go somewhere private? If that’s okay with you?”

Kuroo nodded. If that was going to be the key to help Kenma open up, then Kuroo was beyond ecstatic to oblige. “Your dorm?”

Kenma’s nose scrunched up in trepidation. “We’d pass too many people, they’d have questions.”

“My place, then?” 

Kenma tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “If that’s not too much hassle for you. We could go to the library as well.”

“My place is fine with me, c’mon,” Kuroo said, before grabbing Kenma’s sleeve and tugging him in the direction of his apartment. 

His plan was well and truly back on track.

* * *

“Do you live here alone?” Kenma asked, eyes scanning over the apartment. Their walk over had been almost in total silence, but it hadn’t been an uncomfortable one. 

Not uncomfortable for Kuroo, at least. Kenma had whipped out his phone ten minutes into walking, cutting any potential future conversation off and opting to play games. Kuroo had to occasionally steer him by his shoulders around streetlamps and incoming people, but he didn’t mind. Kenma seemed more relaxed in those moments, too - though Kuroo had to hope he wasn’t tense in the first place. 

“Uhh, yeah?” Kuroo had meant it to be a statement, but it came out as more of a question. “My brother, uh, stays here sometimes too.” If Bokuto counted as a brother, that was. Kuroo certainly thought of him as one. 

Kenma’s gaze lifted to meet Kuroo’s. “You’ve never mentioned a brother before.” 

“Haven’t I? He lives in a different city. I don’t get to see him as often as I like at the moment.” A dull ache throbbed in Kuroo’s chest, the loneliness of being without his best friend, and no way to see him on his own terms catching up with him again. 

Kenma’s brows drew together for a moment, his analysis of Kuroo clear in the movement. “Do you miss him?”

Kuroo nodded. “Every single day.” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “It’s weird not seeing someone that you got used to seeing every day, y’know?”

Kenma perched on the arm of one of the lounges, head turned to the side in a way that Kuroo had worked out meant that he was analysing him. It hadn’t taken long to work out that in the same way that Kuroo was trying to solve the mystery that was Kozume Kenma, that Kenma was trying to do the same to him. And he couldn’t blame him, really. He didn’t want to know how shady he’d seemed at the start. “Do you have anybody that you miss?”

“No.” Kenma shook his head. “I don’t think I love anyone like that.”

Kuroo didn’t know why, but the action made his heart ache a little bit. He’d have to make Kenma at least one friend before he left, that much was clear to Kuroo now. He just wasn’t quite sure how yet. Kenma seemed wholly unwilling to interact with the majority of people. 

No words were exchanged about Kenma’s last comment, Kuroo instead opting to move into the space to sit on the sofa, close enough to Kenma that he could probably touch him if he reached out, but far enough to give Kenma his space. “So,” Kuroo started, feeling somewhat more awkward than he ever had in the other boy’s presence. “What’s up?”

“That’s a very roundabout way of asking where the fuck I’ve been,” Kenma retorts, hands nervously wringing his hoodie. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Not your fault I talk like a dumbass.” Kuroo shot him a reassuring grin, but Kenma wasn’t looking up at him to see it. Kenma's eyes were scoring holes into the wooden flooring of Kuroo’s apartment. “Uh, would you like a hot drink or anything? Then we can talk?”

“I’d like that,” Kenma mumbled, drawing his shoulders up. “Thank you.”

“No worries!” Kuroo smiled, standing up and making his way into the kitchen. He looked over at Kenma once he was leaning against his kitchen counter, but Kenma wasn’t looking back at him. Instead he was still glaring at the floor. Kuroo really hoped that his approach hadn’t been so brutish that it’d sent Kenma spiralling again. With a shake of his head, Kuroo opened up the pantry, glad he’d stocked it up with essentials (and a few other ‘fun’ items) when Bokuto and Akaashi had been over. “Do you prefer tea? Or hot chocolate?” Kuroo called across the apartment. 

Kenma’s head seemed to perk up at this, eyes staring into Kuroo’s. “Definitely hot chocolate.”

As Kuroo scooped teaspoons of chocolate powder into his (only) two mugs, he made the mental note that Kenma liked hot chocolate. It was odd, how finding out something so trivial about the other boy filled Kuroo with a sense of glee. 

When he’d finished making them, he balanced them in his hands and returned to his previous position on the sofa, handing one mug to Kenma who gratefully accepted it with a soft ‘thank you’. 

They both took a few sips from their mugs before speaking, and Kuroo had honestly forgotten how  _ good  _ hot chocolate was. It was so sweet and rich, its warmth blossoming in his chest with each further sip. He'd have to smuggle some into The Heavens when he got sent back. “Okay, I think I’m ready to speak,” Kenma said into his mug. Though he was saying he was ready, his wide eyes and trembling hands made Kuroo wonder just how ready he actually felt. 

Kuroo certainly didn’t mean to hold him at gunpoint to speak. “Kenma, if you don’t wanna, it’s fine, we can just chill instead.”

Kenma took this into consideration, evident by the soft tilt of his head and blinking of his eyes. A fraction of a second later, he said “I think I should do this.” 

“Alright, take your time.” Kuroo was relieved that at least this was something Kenma wanted to do, and not just something that he felt forced to do. They were both benefiting from the situation; Kuroo got to learn more about Kenma, and Kenma got to get whatever this weight was off of his chest. 

Kenma huffed, hands tightly gripping his mug. “I… I’m not… good.” Kenma grimaced at his own words. Kuroo, however, was just lost, confused beyond belief. He didn’t say as much though, just giving Kenma the time and space he might need to say whatever he needed. “Sorry, it’s hard. I’ve never had to tell anyone.” A harsh, dry laugh bubbled from his throat, but it lacked all the warmth and happiness a laugh was supposed to carry. 

Kuroo took another sip of his hot chocolate, blinking up at Kenma. Kenma wasn’t looking back, his eyes once again staring longingly at the floor, as though he wished it’d swallow him alive. 

“It feels so scary to say out loud,” Kenma agonised, taking a deep breath. He was going to say it this time, Kuroo could tell by his eyes. He’d learnt pretty fast that Kenma’s eyes were the easiest way to gauge how he was feeling - especially if his words conveyed otherwise. 

Kuroo was right. It was now that Kenma decided he was ready to speak. “I’m depressed. And have anxiety, I guess. Yeah. That’s it.” Kenma’s shoulders instantly sagged like the weight of the world had been taken off them, and perhaps it had. It sounded like an awfully heavy burden to bear alone. 

Kuroo’s brows creased in concern as he slid closer to Kenma on the sofa, one hand moving to lightly rub Kenma’s upper arm. He could still feel Kenma trembling underneath him, Kuroo gently took his mug away from him before he spilled any. “Ah, Kenma, I’m sorry.”

Kuroo didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even really  _ understand.  _ He knew what depression and anxiety were… he’d known it when he was living, and also what Akaashi had told him about his own circumstances when he’d been alive. But he couldn’t empathise, he didn’t know how it  _ felt.  _

But looking into Kenma’s eyes, that were still downturned and shining with a gleam of fresh tears, Kuroo realised he would do anything to understand it. He wanted to help Kenma overcome this; he wanted to help him get better. 

Kenma sniffled, trying to straighten his back, but not pulling his arm away from Kuroo’s light grasp. “It’s okay. Just the way it is, I guess. So yeah. That’s where I’ve been.”

Kuroo grimaced. He didn’t feel like that painted a complete picture of where Kenma had been, the tug at his heart told him it was infinitely worse than Kenma was willing to reveal, but Kuroo wasn’t going to push. Not now, when Kenma had only just started opening up. If he startled him now, Kuroo feared he’d pull right back away again. 

“Are you okay?” Kuroo asked, despite the feeling he had that he  _ knew  _ the answer to that question. 

And yet, the faintest smile crossed Kenma’s lips, although not a cheerful one like Kuroo wished to paint across it. This smile was one that weighed heavy - the sad type of smile. “I don’t think I am.” 

“But you will be,” Kuroo replied. Kuroo vowed to himself and Kenma that he was going to turn things around for this boy. Someone like Kenma shouldn’t be dealing with this, let alone dealing with it by himself. It wasn’t fair for someone who had stardust in their veins and flowers blooming in their chest to endure this. He hadn’t known Kenma for long, that was true - but he knew a genuine and honest person when he saw one. The type of person he’d lost faith existed. 

Kuroo knew Kenma, not much, perhaps, but still knew him nonetheless. He knew that Kenma had enough grace to let a weird stranger into his life, and kind enough to agree to go wherever said stranger wanted to go. He knew he was goofy enough to enjoy arcades, and funny enough to take digs at Kuroo when he messed up, but not cruel enough to let them have any bite. He knew Kenma was good enough not to want to hinder Kuroo’s life (or whatever his existence should be called), make him a casualty of the war inside his head. 

Kuroo knew that Kenma was  _ enough.  _

He just didn’t know how to communicate that to him. 

You couldn’t just tell a dying houseplant that it deserved to live, and expect that to cause its leaves to once again grow green. No - you had to water it a little bit every day, take it out into the sunshine, and let it grow on its own. Baby steps and some tender love and care was all you could do to save it. 

“One day, maybe,” Kenma whispered, tone wistful. “Sorry to talk about something so… heavy.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Kuroo meant that. If anything, Kuroo should be thanking Kenma for opening up. It took a lot of bravery to tell somebody the darkest parts of your soul, and though Kenma had only probably scratched the surface, it was enough. A good starting point. He’d coax more of it out of Kenma as time went on - or at least, he hoped to. “I asked, after all. And I want to know more, too.”

Kenma lifted one arm to rub at the back of his neck. “You can, uh, I don’t know, ask more stuff, I guess. Or we can talk about something else.” 

Kuroo beamed at him. This was progress! 

While Kuroo had a million questions, he didn’t want to overwhelm Kenma by drowning him in them all at once. He had to approach this with some tact, albeit the fact he’s lacked any sort of subtlety since day dot.

So he asked the question that was burning at the forefront of his mind, the one he knew he’d make a bad assumption about if he didn’t ask. “What are you afraid of?” 

Kenma finally made eye-contact with Kuroo, looking at him like he’d grown a second head, his mouth parted in confusion. 

Kuroo hadn't thought his question was that groundbreaking, but perhaps he should explain. “Like, you said you have anxiety, right?” Kenma nodded, but the look of befuddlement only settled further onto his face. “So you must be scared of something to be anxious about it. So what are you afraid of?” Kuroo said this like it was the most simple thing in the world.

Kenma stared at Kuroo, before reaching to grab his mug of hot chocolate from the table where Kuroo had moved it. “I don’t know how to answer that,” Kenma muttered.

“You can get back to me later, if you want.” 

Kenma nodded again, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ll… tell you when I think of an answer.” 

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in Kuroo’s head. He’d meant to do this before, but he’d been distracted. “Why don’t you text it to me?” Kuroo said hopefully, procuring his phone from his pocket and shoving it into Kenma’s free hand. 

This was a safeguard; if Kenma was to go missing again, at least Kuroo would be able to contact him somehow. It put his heart at ease to know he wasn’t going to be left completely in the dark again. 

“Okay,” Kenma said, typing his number into Kuroo’s phone, sending himself a quick text with it to get Kuroo’s number, before handing the device back to Kuroo. 

It was only now Kuroo realised that he didn’t really know  _ how  _ to use the phone (he hadn’t needed to contact anyone! Especially that traitor, Kai), but for Kenma’s sake, he was willing to learn. 

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” Kuroo asked, smiling up at Kenma again. It wasn’t likely that Kenma would want to say any more on the matter; Kuroo was still surprised he’d gotten as much out of him as he did. For now, it would probably be more fruitful to just spend quality time with Kenma, like they had over the weekend. This way he’d probably feel more comfortable around Kuroo later, if he was guessing right. Plus, Kuroo  _ wanted  _ to spend more time with him, too. 

The corners of Kenma’s lips quirked up - not quite a smile, but getting there. “I’d like that a lot. Do you have Netflix? There are some good horror movies on it.” 

Kuroo had to bite his tongue from asking what the fuck Netflix was, and instead suggested they go find a DVD rental store instead. 

* * *

Kenma hadn’t expected for today to go the way it did, but he was beyond grateful for it. 

He’d all but forced himself out of bed, even though his chest and head felt like a lead weight, trying to drag him back down. But for once, he’d won against his demons, and managed to make it to class, which had been as monotonous and numbing as he’d expected. 

What he hadn’t expected, however, was for one Kuroo Tetsurou to chase him down, say the sweetest words Kenma had ever heard in his life, and given him a hug so warm Kenma thought he was melting. It had been a long forever since someone had embraced Kenma like that. He didn’t think anyone had ever so willingly held onto him in the way Kuroo had. 

The butterflies in his stomach were still running rampant, even hours later. 

They’d only intensified when Kenma had logged into his Netflix account on Kuroo’s T.V., followed by them settling in to watch a movie together. They’d chosen a horror movie after all, the movie gripping Kenma’s attention for long enough that he’d been too distracted to get anxious. He hadn’t had the time to dwell on the conversation he’d just had with Kuroo, no chance to regret it or chastise his word choice, which he was certain was lacklustre. Because if he thought about how  _ nervous  _ he was around Kuroo all of a sudden, he was sure to be sick.

Kenma thought that quite frankly, he was fucked. He tried to convince himself that this wasn’t something like a crush, tried to tell himself that he was stupid for developing a crush on the first person that’d ever shown him kindness like that, but the thought wouldn’t budge. It didn't help his case that Kuroo was extremely attractive. Under the dim lights of his lamp as they’d watched the movie, Kenma had the chance to examine his side profile, and it was  _ not  _ fair that this man was just walking around looking like that.  _ Seriously, who had a jawline like that?  _ It wasn’t human.

So it seemed Kenma well and truly had a crush. What a fool he felt for it. 

And then Kuroo had offered to walk him home, and Kenma swore the butterflies in his stomach had transformed into an entire zoo. He’d declined at first, claiming Kuroo had done enough for him today, but Kuroo had insisted, and swore that he wanted the chance to stretch his legs anyway. 

Their walk had been pleasant, minimal words exchanged Somehow, Kuroo was good at both filling up silences, as well as knowing when they were for the best. Kenma couldn’t wait to find out what this man’s flaw was. He was too perfect otherwise.

As they reached the front door of Kenma’s dorm, words were finally exchanged. “Well, this is me,” Kenma said, gesturing to the concrete building before him

“Wow,” Kuroo added breathlessly. “It’s… a building.”

Kenma snorted. The building was ugly, that was true. The dull grey concrete exterior with the tiny windows made it seem more like a prison than anything else. And perhaps it was, to Kenma, at least. 

But it was also home.

“I guess this is where I say goodbye,” Kenma mumbled, feet shuffling.

Kuroo smiled at him. “I’ll text you soon. We can chat!”

A soft blush spread over Kenma’s face, but he hoped it was dark enough that Kuroo wouldn’t notice it. If he did, he didn’t say anything. “I’d like that a lot.”

Just as Kuroo moved to say his final goodbyes, words completely unplanned tumbled out of Kenma’s mouth. “My neighbour is having an, um,  _ floor party _ on Friday. Do you want to come? With...me?”

With each passing second that Kuroo didn’t reply, Kenma could have sworn his heart beat strong enough to break his rib cage.  _ Why had he said that?  _ He wished he could rewind time and just walked into his dorm, like he’d planned, or even put duct tape over his mouth instead. 

But somehow, Kuroo’s smile stretched even wider. Kenma wished he could have a peek into his head, just to see what he was thinking at that moment. “I’d love to. Text me the deets, or whatever the kids are saying nowadays.” 

Kenma didn’t know anyone else who talked like an old man like Kuroo did. However, instead of finding it annoying like he probably should have, he found it awfully endearing. It had only been about two hours since Kenma had realised his feelings, but he was already sick of having a crush. 

As they said their final good nights, Kenma found his eyes lingering on Kuroo’s lips. He was close enough that if he just leant forward, he’d be able to reach…

But he didn’t. He  _ couldn’t.  _

As much as he wished he could kiss Kuroo, there were too many unknown variables. Did Kuroo feel that way towards Kenma? (Kenma doubted this very much, Kuroo was weird, but not insane). Did Kuroo want to kiss Kenma? Why did Kenma think it was a good idea? Was he being stupid? Did Kuroo even want him around at all? 

That last thought was accompanied by a twist in his gut. 

Maybe one day, Kenma would have the strength to push himself into the kiss.

But for now, he merely bid Kuroo good night, and left with his chest feeling marginally lighter than it had before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** to summarise the panic attack, Kenma's in bed overthinking how he's not good enough for anything or anyone, and spends a lot of it wondering when Kuroo's going to tire of him and leave, and basically feels like he isn't strong enough to get out of his panic attack
> 
> thank you so so much for reading!!! feel free to come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kodzukuro) , or drop your thoughts below!! until next time, hope everyone's well!


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